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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592774">A Court of Ice and Shadow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailxrmxrs/pseuds/sailxrmxrs'>sailxrmxrs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mates, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Romance, The Night Court, True Love, somewhat slow burn, spoilers for acosf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:20:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailxrmxrs/pseuds/sailxrmxrs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roughly a year after the war with Hybern and the scars it left are yet to fully heal. Idrial is left facing her memories of pain while those around her continue with their lives and deal with the aftermath of the war all while she is left with her feelings for the Shadowsinger, Azriel, who she believes is interested in another. Will her feelings eventually fade away? Or is this one-sided love perhaps not quite as unrequited as she thinks?</p><p>Follows the story of A Court of Silver Flames, continuing after the events of the book. Will be spoiler heavy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azriel/OC, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The House of Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first work in the ACOTAR universe and my first time posting on AO3 so I hope this is enjoyable! Fair warning, this takes place at the same time as A Court of Silver Flames so there will be spoilers for some of the plot points throughout the series, including the new book. I hope you like this and my addition to Sarah's work through my OC.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life after the war with Hybern had been difficult. Difficult for everyone who’d been forced to watch their friends, their family, their loved ones suffer or even lose their lives to that unrelenting force of evil. None were spared from heartbreak and pain, even if the war had resulted in the King’s head being severed from his body. Months had passed and yet Idrial could still feel that aching pain in her chest whenever she gazed upon the faces of her friends– her family. Each of her Night Court companions had survived the terror that the war brought, though she had been dangerously close to losing more than a few of her beloved companions.</p><p>None of that had come close to the sheer terror she had felt when Azriel had instinctively risked his life to save sweet Elain Archeron. Idrial held no ill feelings towards Elain. How could she? The female was kind and gentle, and perhaps the most beautiful female she had laid eyes on. It was through no fault of her own that Azriel had found himself falling for the second of the Archeron sisters. It even made sense, considering his brothers had also been ensnared by the eldest and youngest of the Archeron family. Still, it did nothing to soothe or heal the burning hole she felt in her heart every time he offered Elain one of his small, yet soft, smiles. For years Idrial had watched Azriel control his feelings towards Mor, and the moment he had seemed to give up on those emotions, she had succumbed to the false hope that perhaps he would turn his affections towards her. But when she had seen the way he softened for Elain, gently coaxing her out of her paralysing fear, Idrial felt her heart shatter all over again.</p><p>She had first met the Shadowsinger decades ago, before Amarantha took hold of Rhysand, after she had crossed paths with Mor on a visit to the Winter Court. She had been there both on behalf of the Night Court and also to meet with Viviane, a good friend of hers before she had married Kallias and become the Lady of the Winter Court after Amarantha’s death. At the time, Idrial had been living a sheltered life, confined by her parents who were all too concerned with the elemental powers she held. She was by no means powerful enough to lead or bring cities to their knees, unlike the High Lords of Prythian, but her abilities had been enough for them to keep her restricted to the walls of their home.</p><p>Idrial would never forget the day she knelt in their garden, tending to the patch of vegetables that offered her the only semblance of freedom, when she’d scented the presence of a outside Fae. Mor. One glance into the blonde female’s warm eyes and she had witnessed an unrelenting kindness that she had never seen in her nearly two centuries of life. Without a single moment of hesitation, Mor had knelt before her and offered a promise of safety and freedom. She had winnowed them into Velaris and taken Idrial to Rhysand, the feared and mysterious High Lord of the Night Court. To say she had been apprehensive would have been an enormous understatement, but she’d face that fear if it granted her freedom. Rhys’s eyes had fallen upon her and noted something that Mor had also seen, and any and all worries Idrial held fell apart.</p><p>Within months she had grown so accustomed to the Night Court and the wonders of Velaris that it felt like home. Her real home. More natural than the Winter Court had ever felt.</p><p>Years later when Amarantha had grasped her hold on Prythian and taken Rhysand Under the Mountain, Idrial had only worked harder with the Inner Court to keep Velaris safe and undetected from any outside threat. She refused to lose the home she had spent so long craving. In that time, her admiration for her companions only grew and she found that Azriel’s calm and quiet demeanour was a reassuring comfort to her own. She hadn’t meant to let those feelings grow. Hadn’t meant to fall so deeply for him and yet she couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she tried.</p><p>And now, all those years had passed. They had faced 49 years without their High Lord and only months after having him returned to them, they had been bestowed with a glorious High Lady and had faced the horrors of Hybern. Together. And now they lived in peace, for the most part at least. There was still the aftermath of the war clinging to them all, especially for those who had never seen such widespread violence up close, Idrial included. What she had felt was almost incomparable to the Archeron sisters but she was still shaken up by it all even now. The person she felt most sorry for though, was Nesta.</p><p>Idrial wasn’t particularly close with Nesta but she could somehow see beneath her cold exterior, knowing there was so much rage and guilt buried inside the iron walls she had built within her. She had wanted to do something, anything, to help her but Feyre was certain that Nesta just needed time. It had worked to bring Elain out of her shell, after all. But something inside Idrial told her that time and solitude were perhaps the exact opposite of what Nesta needed. She had ultimately been proven right when, roughly a year after the war against Hybern, Feyre and the Inner Court had made the decision for Cassian to train Nesta while they stayed in the House of Wind.</p><p>Idrial had been spending most of her time between the House of Wind and her own little townhouse in Velaris. She liked the privacy her home offered, especially on the days she found it to be particularly difficult to be around Azriel. She hated just how much her mood was impacted by him, hated those unrequited feelings that haunted her every step. Never had she desired male companionship, or any companionship for that matter. She’d never really considered the possibility that she might one day meet someone that she’d want to give her heart to. Even after being saved from the biting chill of Winter Court, the thought hadn’t crossed her mind until she’d realised the feelings she harboured were far stronger than she’d anticipated.</p><p>Just over a week had passed since Nesta had been taken to the House of Wind and she had been as reluctant to the decision as expected. Idrial had been careful to avoid visiting the House to give Nesta some space and time to adjust. But she would be lying to say she didn’t miss staying there, high above Velaris in the lavish comforts that the House offered. That wasn’t to say that her townhouse wasn’t luxurious in its decoration. In fact it was far greater than her old family home had been and she adored the place deeply, but nothing could quite compare to the enchanting space that resided on the mountain. So when Rhys had offered to take her up to the House, she had been quick to accept.</p><p>Nerves flitted in her chest as the High Lord winnowed above the House, flying to its open doors. She had only heard a few passing comments regarding Nesta’s progression, most of them suggesting there hadn’t been much progress at all. Usually, she would have turned to Mor for idle chatter to stave off the nerves but the female was away in Vallahan on Night Court business. As the two landed and Rhys offered a comforting smile before he departed, Idrial turned her attention to the two Illyrian warriors that sat eating their lunch. Nesta was nowhere to be seen but judging by the calm expressions on their faces, it wasn’t the result of some explosive argument. Cassian grinned as Idrial took the seat opposite him, a small plate of plate appearing before her. Even after so many years the enchantments placed upon the House were still baffling. Almost as if the place were sentient. Azriel offered a small smile and a nod before taking another bite of food.</p><p>“Good to see you again. Did you miss me that much?” Cassian teased. Idrial rolled her eyes as she took a bite of food. The male’s arrogance overflowed everywhere he went, yet it was somehow charming at the same time.</p><p>“In your dreams, Cassian. I’m only here to give Nesta someone else to talk to besides you,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eye at her friend.</p><p>“I’m wounded you’d say such a thing. I am nothing but good company.” Idrial couldn’t help the smirk that graced her face when she noticed Azriel’s eyebrow raise. He remained otherwise quiet as he continued to eat.</p><p>“If that belief is what gets you through the day then I won’t shatter it just yet.” Idrial paused before continuing, “Where is Nesta by the way? I assumed she’d be out here eating with you both.”</p><p>“Part of her training is working down in the libraries in the afternoon. She tends to go straight there after our morning sessions,” Cassian explained with a slight look of strain on his face. It had been a rough start getting Nesta to actually take part in their morning training sessions together. The first few attempts to take her to Windhaven and train among the Illyrian camps had been a colossal disaster. Only after Cassian had moved their sessions to the training ring just outside the House had he begun to see any kind of progress. “It’s been going…well.” There was a hint of what looked like disappointment lingering in the Illyrian’s eyes, despite the hopeful tone of his voice. Idrial knew better than to press further, especially given the unspoken feelings that lingered between him and Nesta. He had rarely opened up about how he felt but it wasn’t difficult to see that the two were connected in some way, even if they both denied it.</p><p>The conversation lulled into a comfortable silence while the three finished their meals. Cassian had been the first to finish and rise from his seat, his empty plate vanishing as he stood. The House was nothing but efficient. He had business up in Windhaven to check up on the Illyrian camps and ensure everything was in order. Conditions there were generally pleasant, at least, as pleasant as a war camp of Illyrian warriors could be but Rhysand felt the need to send Cassian there just to make sure there was little-to-no unrest. After he had left, Azriel was the first to break the silence. “How long are you staying here?”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure if I’m honest. Maybe a few weeks? If anything, it’ll give me some peace to work outside of the city.” Idrial didn’t have the level of command that Amren or Mor had, nor was she physically capable in the same way as Azriel or Cassian, but she had found her place within the Inner Circle through her abilities. Before coming to the Night Court, she had been forced to stifle and hide away any power she possessed and it hadn’t been until she was surrounded by that overwhelming sense of liberation that she had began to unravel the secrets that dwelled inside her blood. Her elemental affinity was something that had taken her months to even begin to understand and even now she sometimes doubted the grasp she had on it. Despite any doubts, she had been granted the chance to research her magic, and the ancient magics of Prythian that dwelled in the corners of the world, tucked away and hidden from memory. She would spend hours reading old tomes she discovered in the library beneath the House of Wind and would often find herself accompanying the others outside of the Night Court to put her findings to good use. During the war against Hybern, her research, along with Amren’s knowledge, had been key to discovering the powers that dwelled inside the Cauldron and the secrets of the Book of Breathings. She’d needed a good long break before returning to her research, the sheer stress of decoding the Book had been enough to tire her out for weeks.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here, you know,” Azriel spoke up, his gratitude evident in his soft smile and kind eyes. “If only for the company as Cassian and Nesta’s chaperone.” Idrial huffed a small laugh, smirking at the grimace on Azriel’s face as he uttered his unofficial title of chaperone.</p><p>“Have they…”</p><p>“No. At least, not yet. Come pretty damn close though judging by the scents they keep giving off.” Azriel’s nose wrinkled and Idrial laughed. She knew all too well how he felt, mind casting back to Feyre and Rhys before they had mated. They had spent so long dancing around each other that it was impossible to ignore and Idrial wasn’t surprised in the slightest to hear that Nesta and Cassian were the same.</p><p>“My heart bleeds for you, Az,” she teased, feeling her heart flutter at the deep chuckle he gave. “I suppose if I’m staying here I’ll get to experience the delights of it all too.”</p><p>“Delight is hardly the word I’d use. Still,” Azriel spoke as he rose from his seat, his now empty plate disappearing. “As long as it means progress, they can indulge however they wish.”</p><p>I’m sure they will. Azriel’s mouth twitched as if he could sense exactly what Idrial had been thinking.</p><p>“Rhys wants me down at the estate but I’ll return later. Try not to get your head bitten off by Nesta.” Idrial smiled and bid him goodbye, watching as he flew into the skies and towards the city, all while trying to ignore the pang in her heart.</p><p>Shaking her head in an attempt to rid herself of all thoughts of Azriel, Idrial turned in her chair and rested her chin on her hands. As if understanding the complicated churning of emotion, her empty plate vanished and was replaced by a sizable slice of chocolate cake. She hoped the House could sense her gratitude as she devoured the sweet treat before her.</p><p>Once she had left herself indulge, Idrial rose from her chair and wandered down the hall towards her usual room. It was mostly unchanged since her last visit, though perhaps a little tidier than she’d left it. Idrial was by no means a messy individual, but she was prone to leaving loose sheets of notes around the place, rather than binding them into one of the collections on her shelves. It seemed the House did not appreciate that little habit.</p><p>Glancing at the large bed situated by the floor to ceiling window, Idrial fought the urge to take a post-lunch nap. Sleeping at night could be difficult enough without having slept through the afternoon. Instead, she collected some of her old notes and took herself to the private library down the hall. </p><p>As she entered, the fireplace lit up and the sound of crackling logs sent a warm tingle down Idrial’s spine. She loved the cosy atmosphere the room had, giving her the perfect background noise for her work. She placed the sheets at the desk that sat in the corner of the room before coaxing over the pot of ink and quill that were on a shelf too high for her to reach using her elemental affinity for air.</p><p>When she had first arrived in the Night Court and was allowed to dive into the well of power that had gone untouched for so many years, Idrial had been eager to find out just how far it stretched. She quickly found that her fire ability was by far the weakest. There was little she could do outside conjure a small flame, only just big enough to light a fireplace or small campfire. </p><p>After plenty of research and training she had learnt to use the flame to warm herself, which had proved very useful when the winter season rolled around and the air felt like ice on her bare skin. Her strongest affinity, however, was for water. It had taken almost no time at all to master the art of manipulating water, learning from old tomes on magical abilities how to send water cascading and freeze it into thousands of sharp, pointed icicles. </p><p>Her ice had been one of her best weapons in the war, sending those tiny yet deadly points to slice the necks of anyone who threatened the lives of those she loved. It made sense, she supposed, that being a child of the Winter Court she would find herself leaning into her roots.</p><p>You could take the female out of winter, but you couldn’t take the winter out of the female.</p><p>Air and earth were strong enough to be useful in tight situations, but Idrial had found learning to build those powers hard. Easier than fire, of course, but still no easy feat. Had she a stronger affinity for air, she could probably learn to use it to rip the air from someone’s lungs with a single thought, but for now she opted to use it to carry objects over to her.</p><p>Sometimes the lazy option was the best option.</p><p>She had spent long hours poured over books, trying to enhance her earth power. At first all she had been able to do was send tiny little vibrations along the earth’s floor. They had been barely strong enough to be felt with the thick, heavy boots on her feet. By now, she could send much stronger rumbles along the ground, and had even managed to cleave a sizable pit in the war, sending enemy soldiers falling before she closed it up and let them suffocate.</p><p>Idrial hadn’t meant to do it but had found herself reaching to the ground beneath her feet faster than her brain could comprehend when she saw three Hybern soldiers attempting to sneak up on Azriel. The Illyrian warrior would have likely been able to destroy them, even if he had been occupied dealing with another set of soldiers, but Idrial couldn’t stop herself from coming to his rescue.
She hadn’t forgotten the tendril of shadow that had drifted over to her, wrapping lightly around her wrist before returning to its master. The small sign of comfort had been enough to spur her on, helping her momentarily forget the emptiness that threatened to consume her and as she took more and more Fae lives.</p><p>Even if they were on Hybern’s side, they were still Fae after all and the unusual twist of pain that followed killing Fae left Idrial in cold sweats at night. Even now she still found herself plagued with the occasional nightmare that sent her heart racing.</p><p>It took the memory of all that fighting to bring Idrial back to the present. She had been stood staring at nothing in particular, a blank look on her tanned face. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Idrial continued to set up her desk. All she needed was to find the book she’d picked out a few months ago.</p><p>She’d been in one of the bookshops situated in the centre of Velaris when she had spotted the tattered leather volume. It apparently contained details on the history of elemental magic, something Idrial had struggled to find. Most texts tended to explore the various powers of the courts and she could never seem to answer how she managed to gain affinities for each of the four elements when even High Lords like Beron or Kallias could only use one.</p><p>Something instinctual within Idrial told her that this book would likely be no different, but the only way to know would be to read it. Glancing across the shelves filled with books of all kinds, Idrial couldn’t spot what she was looking for until she heard the definite thump of a book landing on the desk behind her.</p><p>Sure enough, when she turned around she saw the House had deposited the exact book she needed right there. How it had been enchanted so thoroughly, Idrial might never know but she knew she loved it nonetheless. Taking her seat at the now crowded desk, Idrial opened her book and set to reading, letting time wash by as the world around her disappeared.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Elain's Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the support on the first chapter! I appreciate all and every bookmark, comment, kudos and hope you continue to enjoy this fic! I'm hoping to update at least once a week, maybe twice a week if I can but I'm a little busy with studying for my masters so do bear with me if updates aren't super consistent. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The House was quiet save for the low crackle of the fireplace and the sound of the parchment pages being swiftly, but carefully, turned. All concept of time had fallen to pieces as Idrial’s eyes followed each page meticulously, only pausing to scribble down any notes that seemed useful. In the few hours she’d been sat in the private library, Idrial had found it to be rife with details on elemental Fae magic; many of her questions remained unanswered but considering the number of volumes she had scoured over the past decades, even the slightest fragment of new information was welcome.</p>
<p>Idrial had become so engrossed in her reading that she hadn’t heard the sounds of Nesta returning from her shift in the library. Nesta, seemingly, also wasn’t aware of Idrial’s presence when she burst open the wooden door, body fatigued and in need of food and rest. The sudden sound pulled Idrial from her notes with a slight jump, her heart pounding before her eyes laid on Nesta’s frame stood in the doorway and she let out a sigh of relief that it was only the elder Archeron sister and not some intruder coming for her.</p>
<p>“Oh. I didn’t think we’d be getting more company,” Nesta mused. It was neither a welcome greeting nor was it a complaint. She was entirely neutral on the appearance of Idrial. In fact, Nesta didn’t really know a great deal about her, only remembering that she had been one of the more tolerable patrons of the Night Court. She hadn’t tried to control or condemn her for the way she chose to live, but also hadn’t offered friendship in the way Amren once had, at least before they’d had their falling out months ago.</p>
<p>“I needed a change of scenery. Velaris is lovely but it’s nice to get out of the city every once in a while. Plus I thought you might need some female companionship. I know what Cass and Azriel can be like,” Idrial offered in reply, her voice light and cheery. During their flight up to the House, Rhys had suggested she avoided agitating Nesta too much for her own sake. Idrial had nodded in agreement but thought the reminder a little unnecessary. Sure, Nesta’s tongue was sharp and her temper short but that was part of her charm.</p>
<p>“Azriel’s fine. He’s not the one barking orders and leaving me sore from training every morning.” As she spoke, Nesta rubbed a hand on her aching side, finding little reprieve from the tension in her muscles. She sat in one of the armchairs, a plate of hot food and some water appearing at the small table beside her. As Nesta reached to begin eating, a particularly loud crack of a log reverberated through the room. Idrial noted the small flinch she tried to conceal.</p>
<p>“Feel free to put the fire out if you want. It’s warmed up enough for me,” she spoke. Nesta didn’t hesitate to ask the House to put it out and chose to keep her eye on her food though Idrial could see the way her shoulders relaxed and the tension built up had flowed away with the movement. No explanation or thanks were needed—sometimes a silent gesture was enough to provide comfort. It was clear that Nesta was in no mood to start up a conversation again so Idrial turned her attention back to her notes, ignoring the slight pang of hunger that had risen in her stomach at the smell of Nesta’s meal. She was nearing the end of a chapter so dinner could wait for another few minutes. As if reading her thoughts, Idrial’s stomach sent another rumble of hunger and she admitted defeat, closing the weathered leather book. Research was important, but food was more important.</p>
<p>Hours later and Idrial was soaking herself in the ornate bathtub connected to her bedroom. After deeming her research done for the day, she’d sat herself in another of the armchairs and graciously accepted the food from the House. Nesta hadn’t stayed long, lamenting her tiredness before getting up to bathe and sleep for as many hours as possible before she would be disturbed for morning exercises. Idrial, too, hadn’t stayed in the private library much longer after she’d finished eating and had made her way back into her room with a full and satiated belly. She hadn’t seen Azriel or Cassian return but had heard movement coming from Azriel’s room when she passed by on her way to her own room. He often would keep to himself, making the occasional bit of noise so as to make the others aware of his presence, no doubt for his own sake considering the fact that Nesta and Cassian had been dancing around each other. Though Idrial wasn’t entirely sure if the knowledge of his presence, or hers for that matter, would be enough to keep the pair away from each other should they decide to further their relationship beyond the playful bickering and teasing. At least, it was playful on Cassian’s end. Less so in Nesta’s eyes.</p>
<p>Idrial sunk lower into the warm water, fully soaking her body and enjoying the peace and serenity the House offered. Her view of the mountains combined with the near silence was a blissful reprieve from the bustle of Velaris. She adored living amongst the vivacious bustle of the city, but it couldn’t compare to watching the vestiges of the evening sunlight fade into hues of burnt orange and purple as darkness began to fall on the Night Court. Soon the sky would be that same soothing shade of midnight black, stars offering fragments of light that would seem to dance all through the night until the morning sun began to peer over the mountain peaks, dusting the sky in a warm pinkish tone as the world began to awaken.</p>
<p>Morning arrived sooner than Idrial hoped, the glow of the morning sun spilling through the windows and painting her room in a golden blanket. There were worse ways to wake up, she supposed. Judging by the sounds coming from down the hallway, she was the last person to wake up. Idrial could never understand how Cassian or Azriel could wake up at the crack of dawn, dress themselves in their leathers and train for hours. She was surprised that Nesta had adjusted to the routine so quickly too. Early mornings and rigorous exercise were two things that did not exist in Idrial’s vocabulary. She much preferred to be well rested and without aching muscles. Not that she had a great deal of muscle, of course. The thought of wearing the restrictive clothing was entirely unpleasant too and was definitely not ideal for her afternoons researching or venturing out into Velaris to buy more food and supplies. No, she definitely enjoyed her comfortable sweaters and the occasional flowing dress over anything tight and made of leather.</p>
<p>That had been one of her favourite elements of post-war life. For weeks she’d been forced to train her body and abandon her comfort zone so that she’d actually be able to fight against the Hybern soldiers instead of being forced to stay cooped up somewhere safe with no idea if her friends were still alive or not. After the war, Idrial had kept up with some of her training though, oftentimes finding herself swinging the sword Cassian had gifted her one winter solstice years ago. She’d retained enough muscle memory to be able to save herself in a tight situation but she wasn’t anywhere close to the Illyrian warriors she knew and loved so much.</p>
<p>Sighing to herself, Idrial dragged her still weary body out of the warmth of her bed and got dressed before joining the others in the dining room. Cassian was leaning against the threshold of the open door, waiting for Nesta while Azriel sipped a mug of tea in his seat at the table.</p>
<p>“Nice to see you’ve finally joined the living,” Cassian teased, his face twisting into a smug smirk as he folded his arms across his broad chest. Idrial’s only reply was a swift middle finger as she sat down and watched as the plate of eggs and meat appeared before her, a mug of tea to match Azriel’s materialising beside it. Cassian’s chuckle was deep as he laughed at the still sleepy female. How he could have so much energy in the mornings was beyond Idrial.</p>
<p>“Nice to see you’re still annoying as ever even this early in the day,” she finally retorted, scowling at the too cheerful male over her mug of tea.</p>
<p>“Bold of you to assume he ever takes time off from trying to get on everyone’s nerves,” Azriel added, his tone sarcastic while his eyes twinkled as he caught Idrial’s gaze. Cassian’s face dropped in feigned offence, his hand moving to his chest to continue the act.</p>
<p>“To think that two of my most trusted friends would insult me so. I have never felt such betrayal in my life.”</p>
<p>“Save the dramatics, will you? I’d like to get this training over and done with.” Nesta’s voice came from the hallway as she walked into the room, fully dressed in her own set of training leathers. In the tight clothing, Idrial could see the muscle she’d already begun to gain in her thighs even after just a week or so of this new routine. No doubt Cassian was running her ragged each morning before sending her off down to work in the library for hours where she’d be walking on already tired legs, stacking and sorting tomes of all sizes and weights. Nesta was still small and slight in her frame, but there was a much healthier glow on her skin than when she’d last seen Nesta weeks prior when her face had been dull and lacking colour. She was still the pale vision of sharp beauty, but there was something that shone now that gave her life. Not enough time had passed to heal the scars inside of her, but it was reassuring at least to see the beginnings of the healing process sinking in, even if Nesta was perhaps not entirely aware of her own progress just yet.</p>
<p>“Lovely as ever, Nes,” Cassian greeted, finding amusement in the way she rolled her eyes at the nickname. “Come on then.” Nesta followed after him, looking anything but pleased about her morning schedule. Still, she went without hesitation or reluctance despite the unwillingness she had shown back when Feyre had first told her of the plan to have her train with Cassian.</p>
<p>Once more, Idrial was left alone with Azriel who had now finished his breakfast. Idrial’s own plate of food had disappeared all too quickly and she found herself secretly hoping the House might bless her with an extra serving.</p>
<p>“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ll be up here with those two on your own for a day or two,” Azriel said, breaking the silence.</p>
<p>“Oh? Why’s that?”</p>
<p>“Keeping an eye on the queens again. It seems we were right to suspect something was going on. There hasn’t been much more than a few whispers but it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?” Idrial nodded in solemn silence. It was easy to forget that despite the fact that the war was over, there was still the threat of unrest lingering throughout Prythian and across the waters. The Fae and human realms alike had a lot of work before peace could truly befall them.</p>
<p>Azriel had left not long later, leaving Idrial to her devices— alone save for the comforting presence of the House and the occasional sound of Cassian outside barking orders at Nesta to fix her posture or concentrate on her exercises harder. She could only hear their voices if she focused hard enough and so allowed herself to tune out all other sounds while she sat in the dining room and waited for an ounce of motivation to get up and go on with her day.</p>
<p>Once she had summoned the energy to rise from her seat, Idrial found the time passed by quickly enough. There was enough to do in the House to keep her occupied even in her solitude. Much like the day before, Nesta had immediately made her way into the private library after returning from her work down with the priestesses. Neither had bothered to strike up a conversation and instead opted for silence as they ate the dinner prepared by the House and read after they were done.</p>
<p>Idrial had heard Nesta’s approaching footsteps this time and dimmed the fire just before she came in, keeping her attention to the pages in front of her so as not to make a fuss over it. Nesta didn’t comment either, just taking up her seat in the same armchair and silently eating. The silence wasn’t awkward or heavy, but comfortable. Words weren’t needed in that moment. They were simply two beings amicably co-existing in the same room. There weren’t any obligations nor was there any pressure to converse. Nesta found she liked the comfort of the quiet after spending all day on her feet. It was nice to be around someone and feel their companionship without expelling the remaining dregs of her energy that were just barely keeping her eyes open.</p>
<p>The next day had followed a similar pattern as the previous and Idrial had found the routine pleasant, though she was wary to alter certain movements to avoid any monotony. It was easy to fall into a boring pattern of tedious repetition and she had fallen victim to boredom many a time in her years. Though she knew there would be no chance of feeling bored when she heard the arrival of Rhys and Elain.</p>
<p>As soon as she heard their voices trailing into the sitting room, Idrial glided from her bedchambers to meet them. That morning she had opted for one of her more comfortable dresses; it was nothing too flashy or extraordinary especially compared to the garments she often saw Amren or Mor wearing, but it made her feel more graceful in a way. She like the way the fabric flowed against her legs too. Rhys and Elain greeted her happily, the latter looking particularly cheerful to see her.</p>
<p>“Idrial, I’m glad to see you,” Elain’s voice rang across the room, her arms delicately inviting Idrial into a close hug. After Elain had first been Made, she’d taken a lot of time to adjust and become comfortable with her new body and the new life she’d been offered. Idrial had seen just how timid and fragile Elain used to be and the Elain that stood before her now was an entirely different, much stronger, female.</p>
<p>“It’s good to see you too. I’m guessing you’re here to see how Nesta’s doing.”</p>
<p>“Well, yes. Rhys heard from Cassian that she’s been doing better so I guess I wanted to see for myself.” Idrial glanced over at the High Lord, noting the look of scepticism on his face. It was true that Nesta had improved. At least, based on what Idrial had seen of her in the weeks before she’d been offered the ultimatum of the House or the human realm. Whether Nesta had improved enough to satisfy Rhys or any of the others in the Inner Circle, however, was an entirely different question.</p>
<p>“She usually finishes down in the library around six and goes straight to the private library so she won’t be long now,” Idrial informed her as she took a seat and accepted the mug of tea provided by the House. Yet again, the enchantments had somehow known she needed a warm drink to settle the fluttering of nerves in her stomach. As much as she loved to see Elain, something deep in her was whispering that this meeting wouldn’t go well, even if Nesta had always had a soft spot for her younger sister.</p>
<p>“While you ladies wait for our darling Nesta, I need to collect her teacher from Windhaven. We’ll be back soon enough but try not to destroy the House in my absence,” Rhys offered, a lazy grin stretching across his face as he waved goodbye to the two females sat beside each other on the expansive sofa. Idrial rolled her eyes while Elain giggled airily.</p>
<p>Once their High Lord had soared into the sky and winnowed away, Elain’s soft smile soon fell into a look of concern.</p>
<p>“Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>“I’m nervous to see her. What if she’s just angry at me for siding with Feyre to send her here. We only wanted what’s best for her but I’m not sure she sees it that way,” Elain confessed as her leg bounced absentmindedly. Idrial reached a hand to her knee, giving Elain a comforting smile.</p>
<p>“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you. I’ve only been here for a few days and she’s starting to change for the better. It’ll take her a while but this is good for her. She’ll see that soon enough, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“I hope you’re right.” Elain sighed, eyes still laced with worry. As if sensing her trepidation, a large drink of hot chocolate appeared on the low glass table that sat on the large rug before the sofa. Elain’s face shifted and the ghost of a smile etched onto her pale skin as she reached forward and took a gratifying sip of the sweet liquid. “It’s almost creepy how much the House knows.” Idrial laughed knowingly, having felt the exact same way in those few days since she’d returned to the House. “A little. But isn’t it wonderful to have your home know exactly what you need?” This time it was Elain’s turn to nod.</p>
<p>After exchanging pleasant small talk about Elain’s gardens back in Velaris and the business she’d taken to throughout the city, both females had drained their mugs and were both feeling warm and comforted. The early evening sun had washed the sitting room in a golden orange glow, illuminating the textures of their dresses. Elain inhaled deeply, moving to stand from her comfy position.</p>
<p>“I suppose I should go and wait for Nesta. You said she normally goes to the private library?” Idrial nodded, humming in confirmation. Elain took in another deep breath to keep herself calm.</p>
<p>“I’ll be out here if you need me at all, but I’ll let you both have some privacy. And I’ll stop Rhys or Cassian from barging in too when they get back.” Elain smiled and quietly spoke her thanks as she made her way towards the library. Idrial padded through the House to retrieve the notes she’d left on the desk in her room and returned to her spot in the sitting room to glance over them while she waited for Rhys and Cassian’s return—and for the result of Elain’s visit to Nesta.</p>
<p>Within the hour, Rhys and Cassian had hurriedly rushed into the warmth of the House, neither bothering to conceal the slight shivers as a result of flying in the cool evening air. They’d taken up seats either side of Idrial, Cassian blowing warm air into his hands.</p>
<p>“How’s it going so far?” Cassian asked, his eyes glancing to Idrial.</p>
<p>“I can’t really tell if the sounds I’m hearing are good or bad. Nesta’s raised her voice a few times but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.”</p>
<p>“As long as she doesn’t take it all out on Elain, I don’t care. She has been nothing but helpful given the state she was in not even a year ago,” Rhys spoke. It was fairly obvious that Rhys wasn’t the biggest fan of Nesta and he didn’t do much to hide the fact even from her. Although the same could probably be said of Nesta.</p>
<p>It seemed that Rhys had spoken a little too soon as Elain came bursting out of the library. The three stood and followed the sound to the dining room, seeing Elain’s crumpled face. Her brown eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill down her soft cheeks.</p>
<p>“I want to go home.” Her voice was shaky but she did everything in her power to keep herself together.</p>
<p>“What happened.” It wasn’t a question that Rhys uttered, but more of a command. Elain tried to dismiss him, attempting to brush off whatever Nesta had said to her but he pushed on.</p>
<p>“She’s not getting any better. She’s not even trying,” came Elain’s reply as her arms curled around herself. Idrial strode over to her, offering a soothing hand, her eyes teeming with guilt for having spoken so highly of Nesta’s progress earlier. She felt almost as though this was partially her fault. Maybe she should’ve been in the room with them as a mediator just in case things got out of hand as they seemingly just had. Cassian and Rhys were silent, no doubt having a mental conversation with one another thanks to Rhys’ daemati abilities.</p>
<p>“I’ll fly you home.” Rhys’ voice was much calmer, softer, as he spoke and offered a hand to her before the two made their way back to Velaris together. Idrial watched as they disappeared into a tiny speck of black across the burnt ember sky. Cassian stood still beside her, a million thoughts racing through his mind.</p>
<p>Without a word he stormed off to the small library where Nesta had yet to emerge from. Idrial hesitated, contemplating following after him. Would she be of any help? Would Nesta even want to see her? She’d no doubt be angry with Cassian, let alone anyone else who tried to address whatever had just happened between her and her sister.</p>
<p>Before she could even decide, Nesta came barging through the dining room, face raging with a cold fire. She barely spared Idrial a glance as she continued through and to the ten thousand steps that lay between her and Velaris. Idrial had heard of Nesta’s frequent attempts to climb the stairs in fits of frustration but this was the first time she bore witness to it. All she could so was watch in silent concern as Nesta’s figure disappeared.</p>
<p>“There’s no need to worry, she’ll be back sooner than she’d like.” Cassian’s voice came from the hallway and Idrial turned, seeing the look of anguish? Disappointment? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Cassian had always been the one she looked to when she felt lost or confused and yet here he was, no doubt feeling the exact same way.</p>
<p>“You should go rest up in your room. I’ll deal with her when she gets back.” Idrial raised her brows. “Are you sure, Cassian? I don’t want you to face the brunt of Nesta’s anger. It’s not fair on you.”</p>
<p>“That hasn’t stopped anyone else before. It’s fine, I promise.” Idrial held Cassian’s gaze before she gave in. “Fine. If you need any help then just come get me okay?” Even though he promised he would, Idrial didn’t entirely believe him. Either way, she made her way back down the hall and to her bedroom. As she entered, the fire crackled and doused the room in an enveloping warmth; an entirely different feeling compared to the icy wrath of Nesta storming through the House and down the steps. Idrial still worried for her, hoping she’d be back soon enough to talk things out with Cassian. She supposed she’d have to wait until morning to find out what happened as she sat down in the cosy armchair tucked in the corner of her room, casting all thoughts of worry and concern aside as she began to settle in for the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Midnight Encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pale moonlight cast a film of pearlescent light into the room otherwise painted in darkness. The House was bathed in silence as its residents slept soundly. At least, as they tried to. Idrial had tossed and turned in the crisp violet sheets of her bed more times than she could count, hoping that sleep would consume her but to no avail. The room was a comfortable temperature and she had felt tired earlier yet now it seemed her body wanted to do everything but sleep. If she stayed awake too long then getting up in the morning would be even more torturous. Plus, Cassian would no doubt have a sarcastic remark at the ready if she emerged from her slumber, eyes ringed with dark circles any later than mid-morning.</p>
<p>Sighing to no one but herself, Idrial threw the sheets off her in annoyance and climbed out of bed. She slid on the soft slippers she kept on the cool wooden floor and made her way out into the hall, aiming for the sitting room. If she couldn’t get some sleep, then she might as well finish reading over the notes she’d left abandoned there after the incident with Nesta and Elain.</p>
<p>Cassian hadn’t said anything about Nesta’s condition after she’d returned from the steps but judging by the lingering scent of arousal that clung to the air, she was probably better off not knowing. Whatever they got up to alone was none of her business. Nor did she want to make it her business.</p>
<p>Idrial planted herself rather ungracefully on the plush sofa, tucking her bare legs under her. The notes she’d left were in the same spot on the table, only this time they were accompanied with a glass of warm milk, honey and cinnamon and a small plate of two biscuits. Idrial glanced around and whispered a grateful, “thanks” to the House. It still felt strange to talk directly to an entity she could not see, but judging by the way the faelights flickered, she knew the House had spoken back.</p>
<p>She leant forward and grasped the glass in her hands, the warmth of the drink seeping into her skin. Taking a sip, her eyes closed as she savoured the sweetness of the honey with the slight spice of cinnamon. It was the perfect late night drink to alleviate all the tension of her inability to find sleep. Just as she was about to take a bite of biscuit, a deep voice sounded from the hallway.</p>
<p>“Midnight craving?” Idrial’s gaze followed after the voice, seeing Azriel stood there, leaning against the red wall with an amused look on his face. Thanks to the cool glow of the faelights and the illumination of the moon, Idrial could just make out his features and towering body. From her seated position, the male seemed even larger than usual. Though, most Fae males appeared massive compared to her much shorter frame.</p>
<p>Azriel had stripped himself of his usual training leather, opting for a more casual and comfy looking set of clothes. He loosened the top two buttons of the pale grey shirt adorning his body, offering Idrial a glance at his broad, tanned chest, tendrils of tattoos now visible. Blinking to regain her thoughts, Idrial asked, “Everything alright?” Considering how late it now was, she hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake.</p>
<p>Azriel remained quiet, either not knowing how to answer or simply not wanting to share whatever it was that kept him awake. Idrial’s eyebrows furrowed in concern for the male, replacing her glass and snack on the table. She moved her legs from under her and stood, careful to be quiet with her movements so as not awaken Cassian or Nesta.</p>
<p>As she approached Azriel, Idrial noticed the dark circles under his eyes were even more prominent than usual. There was something weary in his expression, though he hid it well. Yet, Idrial could somehow see beneath that. Could somehow sense there was something deeper behind his eyes that he wasn’t telling her, or maybe even anyone. The silence between them was deafening. As if neither knew what to say to the other.</p>
<p>It was in that moment Idrial realised just how close she now stood before him. And how few clothes she was wearing. She took a hesitant step back, though her previous concern was still etched upon her face despite the fluttering of her heart or the knots in her stomach. Something about being alone together in the silence of night sent her almost reeling.</p>
<p>“Is everything okay? Why are you awake?” She asked, voice sounding small even as it broke the thick silence.</p>
<p>“I could ask you the same thing.” Azriel’s voice rumbled in a deep tone contrasting to hers.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t sleep.”</p>
<p>“Me too.” Idrial didn’t know how to respond. The encounter wasn’t necessarily awkward, but she felt so out of her element. Like she’d forgotten how to speak or interact with him. Luckily for her, it seemed Azriel was happy to take the reins.</p>
<p>“Did something happen with Cassian and Nesta earlier?”</p>
<p>“There was an…incident.” Idrial didn’t know if he’d heard what happened with Elain but something in her wanted to steer clear of discussing her with Azriel. She cared for her a lot, but his reaction might just send her into a flurry of emotions she wasn’t able to handle. “I’m fairly certain they resolved things one way or another.” Azriel’s responding chuckle had Idrial’s heart skipping a beat. Gods, she really needed to pull herself together and get her emotions in check. Perhaps moving into the House of Wind for a while had been a bad idea.</p>
<p>“It was only a matter of time, I suppose.” Before Idrial could utter her agreeance, Azriel spoke up again. “I’ll let you get back to your midnight indulgence. Make sure to get some sleep, though.” She watched as he turned for his bedroom, calling out, “You too,” before she returned to her seat on the sofa and threw her head in her hands, groaning under her breath.</p>
<p>“Come on, Idrial. Pull yourself together,” she whispered into the midnight air. How she was going to sleep now with her blood pumping a mile a minute was beyond her. Still, she downed what was left in her glass, opting to leave the biscuits so she could get back into bed as soon as possible. Her cheeks felt flushed and warm with embarrassment at her flustered state as she quickly paced back to her room. Eventually, she found herself being lulled to sleep by the warm air that huddled around her, as if the House itself were a mother gently soothing her child into a deep slumber.</p>
<p>By the time morning came around, Idrial was grateful to have gotten even a few hours of sleep. She didn’t feel fully satiated nor was her sleep particularly pleasant, but at least she’d recovered from the wave of emotions that had washed over her skin in her midnight encounter with Azriel.</p>
<p>When she stepped into the dining room, he was the only one who’d woken up. Judging by the light outside, it was earlier the usual. The sun had almost fully risen but there was still a slight haze from the sunrise that lingered between the mountains.</p>
<p>“You’re up early. Thought you’d still be sleeping since you were up so late,” Azriel offered as a way of greeting. As Idrial took her seat opposite him, she studied his face for a moment, noticing the purple beneath his eyes had lessened somewhat but the weariness in his eyes had stayed.</p>
<p>“Like I said last night, couldn’t sleep. It’s nice to be up before the others for a change.” She chuckled lightly at the notion, gratefully accepting a glass of juice offered by the House. As much as she adored the way the House made tea, nothing could beat something as refreshing as this in the early morning light. “By the way, how did it go spying on Briallyn? Did you find anything?” Azriel’s expression turned dark.</p>
<p>“I’ll take that as an ‘it didn’t go well’ sort of look?”</p>
<p>“You could say that. Rhys wants us all down at the river house this morning to talk about it,” he explained as he took a sip of water. Not good. If Rhysand needed everyone to hear it then it couldn’t be anything good. “Hey, don’t look so worried. We’ll figure it out somehow.” Azriel’s hand moved to cover Idrial’s. His coarse, callused fingers gently stroke the softness that was the back of her hand. Idrial shifted her gaze from the table to Azriel’s face. His previous weariness had melted away, leaving only a comforting smile. She returned the expression and he retracted his hand as Cassian made his entrance.</p>
<p>There was something about the way he entered that felt off—as though he felt awkward to be around either of them.</p>
<p>“Morning, Cassian,” Idrial called out. Cassian didn’t reply, his eyes seeming distracted as he sat down at the table. Azriel and Idrial shared a knowing glance, both trying hard to mask the smirks that threatened to appear.</p>
<p>“Did something happen that I, as your chaperone, should know about?” It was evident in the tone of his voice that he too had sensed the shift in Cassian’s scent, clearly distracted by thoughts of the previous night.</p>
<p>“No,” he grumbled as he somehow slouched even further into his seat. It took all the self-control she could muster to not burst into a fit of giggles. In all the years she’d known Cassian, never once had she seen him so affected by anything or anyone. The power Nesta had over him was a force to be marvelled.</p>
<p>“Are the two of you ready to head down to the river house?” Asked Azriel, eyes fixed on Cassian. Idrial assumed he was referring to Cassian and Nesta, given the fact he’d just mentioned the oncoming meeting to her a few moments ago. There was no reply from Cassian and the vacant look had returned to his face once more. Azriel cleared his throat, pulling Cassian from his thoughts once more.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I said, are you two ready to head down to the river house?” This time Idrial couldn’t help the giggles that escaped her throat. Cassian threw her a look of disdain before returning his attention to Azriel.</p>
<p>“Two?” Azriel simply chuckled, his shadows dancing with him as if they were laughing too.</p>
<p>“Did you listen at all last night?”</p>
<p>“Clearly not,” Idrial teased. Cassian threw her an obscene gesture before he uttered a “no”.</p>
<p>“At least you’re honest. You and Nesta are wanted there.”</p>
<p>“Because of the shit with Elain?” Idrial watched how Azriel stilled, completely unmoving save for the slight rise and fall of his breathing.</p>
<p>“What happened to Elain?” Azriel’s eyes were fixed on Cassian who simply waved a hand in indifference. Idrial suddenly felt guilty for not bringing this up last night even after he’d asked.</p>
<p>“A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned, clearly noticing how Azriel’s eyes had hardened. Cassian let out a deep breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.”</p>
<p>“It’s about what I discovered with Briallyn. Rhys said he requires everyone there.” Azriel’s attention was still on Cassian who’d clearly sobered up from whatever distracting thoughts had been dancing through his mind. Idrial felt odd and out of place sitting there. Azriel’s shadows had seemed even more present since the mention of Elain. She couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that crawled up her spine. Maybe now she wouldn’t have felt so awkward or awful if she’d just had the guts to tell him. Whatever fleeting feelings she held for him shouldn’t be cause to leave Elain’s name out of conversation just because it might hurt her. No, she needed to stop being so selfish. Of course she could never have Azriel, no matter how much she secretly pined for him and hopelessly wished he might share those same feelings.</p>
<p>Cassian’s questioning, “You all right?” brought Idrial out of her thoughts as she glanced up at him. His question, however, had not been directed at her. Naturally, his concern was placed entirely upon Azriel and her own flurry of emotions had gone unnoticed by them both. Good. It was better that way.</p>
<p>Azriel just nodded as he answered, “Fine.” His shadows were still swarming his frame, though. He was clearly lying, and Idrial sensed Cassian knew it too but both knew better than to pry or try and force it out of him. He’d talk when he was ready. Which was likely never.</p>
<p>“All right. We’ll meet you there.”</p>
<p>Idrial quickly excused herself from the table, not having touched any of the food presented to her by the House. She didn’t feel like eating despite knowing she’d need to energy to last her through the day. When Cassian had asked if she was okay, she just mumbled an excuse about needing to finish getting ready. She didn’t particularly care if either male noticed if something was off with her. All she cared about was making sure she sorted herself out before she would have to fly or winnow in Azriel’s arms over to the river house. It wouldn’t be the first time being held by him for that very purpose but given how she’d been since last night, it wasn’t exactly a good idea to let her imagination run wild and unchecked.</p>
<p>She took a seat at her desk, head in hands as she tried to focus her breathing. In her rapid need to be alone, Idrial had left the door to her bedroom wide open and Nesta, on her way to the dining room, had spotted the female looking somewhat distressed.</p>
<p>“Everything okay?” The question was tentative and uncertain, as if Nesta wasn’t sure how to go about the situation. Idrial’s head shot up and a slight look of panic adorned her face. Once she registered that it was Nesta who’d asked the question, relief washed over her.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—It’s nothing.” It was evident that Nesta didn’t believe a word of what she’d said. She hesitated at the threshold of the door for a moment before pressing on.</p>
<p>“Most people who are fine don’t sit with their head in their hands looking like that.” Idrial silently thanked her for the astute observation.</p>
<p>“Seriously, Nesta, it’s nothing important. Thanks, though.” Idrial managed a strained smile before she continued. “Oh, we’re all needed at the river house this morning. Azriel found something with Briallyn.” Nesta nodded, the movements seeming clipped. It had been around two weeks since she’d last been in Velaris and surrounded by so many people. The thought was no doubt daunting. She then continued on to the dining room, leaving Idrial to collect her thoughts.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Azriel stood just outside the entrance to the House of Wind. He needed the cool breeze in his lungs to pull his senses back together. Since returning from his excursion to observe Briallyn, he’d felt conflicted. And tired. His ability to sleep had always been poor over the centuries he’d lived and it had only gotten worse in recent weeks. Some inexplicable conflict had been festering within him for a while and if he didn’t keep it in check, it’d no doubt begin to overflow and seep into everyone’s peripheral.</p>
<p>Last night had only seemed to add fuel to the fire. Once he’d returned back to the House, he’d been met with Cassian. The Illyrian had been uncharacteristically quiet and out of sorts, though Azriel couldn’t figure out why. He assumed Nesta was involved in some way but knew better than to pry or force it out of him. Cassian had looked about as distracted as Azriel felt before he finally retired to his room for some rest. Azriel followed after him, ignoring the House’s gentle nudging towards the dining room for a hot meal before he settled down to sleep.</p>
<p>Of course, however, his attempt to sleep off the concerns that troubled his mind was unsuccessful, almost as if his body refused to rest until his confliction lay dormant once again. He’d been fighting this internal battle for the best part of a year now—ever since Feyre’s sisters had come into their lives. Especially Elain. Gods Elain. She had captivated Azriel in ways he hadn’t expected yet she was also the source of the uneasiness that curdled in his stomach.</p>
<p>Granted, Elain’s presence had pried him away from Mor and the attachment he felt towards her which he was grateful for, but he’d take those feelings over the confusion and conflict he wrestled with now. Azriel knew the other members of the Night Court had believed him to be in love with Mor for as long as he’d known her, Mor herself included, but it had never been like that. He understood why they thought so but Azriel’s feelings towards Mor simply stemmed from a sheerly platonic love and desire to protect her. Not that he ever contested anyone who outright said anything. Let them believe whatever it is they wished.</p>
<p>Then there was the incredibly present issue that was Idrial.</p>
<p>Idrial was kind and had always been warm towards Azriel, never showing signs of fear or apprehension towards his shadows. He’d instantly felt this connection with her that allowed him to feel at ease in her presence no matter what. At least, until Elain had entered the picture. Elain and Idrial got along perfectly well, the latter offering a gentle hand of support after the incident with the Cauldron and Hybern. She had been one of the first ones to really get through to Elain and help her pull herself out of the all-consuming darkness that enveloped her.</p>
<p>Yet why did he feel so strange every time he looked upon Idrial’s face? Why did he feel a pang of guilt striking his chest any time he thought of Elain in her presence?</p>
<p>Last night he’d been meaning to go outside and fly around in the silence of night, hoping to burn off some of these feelings so he could at least get a few hours of rest but she’d been sat in the sitting room, night clothes adorning her body and leaving her pale legs on display. She’d looked a vision of beauty under the faelights. And there had been this look of pure concern and worry when she’d spoken to him in that soft voice of hers. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten until she had spoken again, this time stood right before him.</p>
<p>Thankfully, he’d managed to shake off whatever dazed feelings circled his mind. He prayed Idrial hadn’t noticed. The last thing he needed was her having even more reason for concern. So he’d quickly found a way out of the conversation and headed back to his room once more, forgetting the planned flight and sitting on the edge of his bed, hands cradling his face as he tried to slow his thundering heart.</p>
<p>He’d heard the sounds of Idrial’s feet gently pattering back to her own room but didn’t bother to get up and leave as he’d planned to earlier. Instead, he stayed up for most of the night just thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what it was that was happening within him.</p>
<p>Sleep had eventually struck him, but it was hardly a peaceful or restful slumber. Even now as he stood outside the House, he could feel everything coursing through his veins. It had settled somewhat, but it still felt like there was an invisible string tugging on him, trying to pull him back inside. Azriel shook it off, assuming it was just some innate part of him that wanted to check that Cassian, Nesta and Idrial were all about ready to leave so they weren’t late to the meeting. Yes, that was it. It must be. Today’s meeting and the information he’d gathered was surely the source of his concerns. Regardless, he could hardly dwell on it for much longer when Idrial reappeared and joined him by his side.</p>
<p>“Nesta’s just eating but Cassian will be flying her over once she’s done,” she spoke, her voice carrying on the wind. Azriel just hummed and nodded in acceptance. When he felt like this, sometimes it was best to keep quiet so as not to reveal too much or let anyone in. Neither spoke for a moment until Cassian’s voice sounded from behind them both.</p>
<p>“Go on without us. Nesta’s almost ready so we’ll meet you at the river house.” Idrial and Azriel nodded in unison.</p>
<p>“We’ll see you in a bit,” Idrial greeted as Azriel tightly captured her in his arms and took flight, still remaining silent. She tried not to think on it too much, instead directing her attention to the city below. Velaris looked beautiful at any given moment in the day. Though night was always a stunning sight to behold, Idrial almost preferred the mornings when she could see shining faces in the crowds, starting their days with broad smiles and well-rested minds. She was almost envious in a way. Still, she wouldn’t let her thoughts get in the way of this meeting at the river house. Briallyn and the threat she posed was a much more pressing matter and one she did not want to ignore.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this chapter took a little longer to get written and posted! I've been super busy with university reading lately so I didn't have as much time to write as I'd have liked but the new chapter is here and I hope you enjoy it! This one's a little speech heavy since it covers the meeting at the river house and follows a lot of the book's dialogue but I hope it's still good!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Feyre and Rhys had spared no expense on their lavish river house, the latter no doubt wanting nothing but the best for his mate. For his High Lady. It was evident in the sprawling opulence, enhanced by the shining rays of morning sunlight bouncing off the home, that was honestly more like a manor than a house, casting a glorious sight before Idrial and Azriel as they arrived just outside its doorstep. Their flight from the House of Wind had been silent save for the constant drumming of Azriel’s wings in the air, the gentle breeze feeling that much more apparent in Idrial’s face as she tried to brush the stray hairs out of her eyes. No matter how much she tried to keep her thick mass of hair kempt and tamed, it seemed to have a mind of its own, ignoring her attempts to braid it into submission.</p><p>Once the two had landed, Idrial cast a glance in the direction of the House of Wind, spotting a faint glimpse of Cassian and Nesta off in the distance. Azriel had walked on ahead, not noticing her pause and Idrial near scurried to keep up with his long strides up to the river house’s large ornate door. Rhys, already aware of their arrival, stood in the now open doorway with a tentative smile on his face. The High Lord had grown accustomed to concealing his concerns and worries but it seemed that recent events and the upcoming meeting were weighing a tad too heavy on his broad shoulders.</p><p>“Greeting us at the door? Your hospitality humbles me,” Azriel chimed, his shadows dancing in the humorous comment.</p><p>“I am nothing but gentlemanly,” Rhys purred. “And I may have already been walking past when I saw you land. Everyone’s waiting in the study.” Idrial and Azriel stepped into the large hall that welcomed all of Feyre and Rhysand’s guests. Gorgeous paintings that were no doubt painted by Feyre adorned the walls, each one singing with stories of the Night Court and its inhabitants. Every time she visited, Idrial swore the place became even more picturesque—as though it had been crafted straight from a historical novel of kings and queens of ancient times past. A large vase filled with freshly cut flowers was sitting atop a round wooden table and Idrial didn’t need Rhys’ daemati powers to know it had been Elain to craft such an arrangement.</p><p>“Cassian and Nesta aren’t far behind us. They’ll arrive soon.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. I can almost hear the sound of their bickering from here,” Rhysand joked as he led the two towards his private study. Most of the Night Court’s meetings were held there considering its location was secluded yet easy to access regardless of where its Inner Court lived within the city. Well, unless you were atop the House of Wind without a flying or winnowing escort. Those ten thousand steps could never be defined as easy by anyone with some semblance of sense.</p><p>With a flair of dramatics, Rhysand threw the double doors open, revealing Feyre sitting on a sapphire-blue velvet couch and Amren tucked comfortably into an armchair, her grey fur coat wrapped around her small frame. Feyre smiled warmly as she rose from her seat and glided over to Idrial who reached for Feyre’s hands in greeting, only to be met by a thick wall of invisible shields. Feyre laughed at the look of surprise on her face.</p><p>“I keep forgetting Rhys has you shielded up,” Idrial commented, a light chuckle punctuating her words.</p><p>“Territorial Fae bastard,” Feyre muttered, perfectly aware her mate could hear her. Azriel smiled, head shaking ever so slightly as he moved across the room to lean against the mantel.</p><p>“Now, now, Feyre darling. It’s rude to be mean in front of our guests.” Feyre simply rolled her eyes before sharing a grin with Idrial. She strode back over to the sapphire couch where Rhys now lounged and took a seat beside him. Idrial, meanwhile, sat on one of the armchairs besides Amren’s own spot. Amren had always held an intimidating aura, much more threatening in her iron stare than Azriel and his shadows could ever be. Since becoming Fae, that dark power had dissipated but its former owner had kept her cold, hard exterior. Of course, she was nowhere near as callous and indifferent as she appeared and Idrial found that Amren was actually much more sociable than she liked to let on, though Idrial wouldn’t voice that opinion out loud.</p><p>Amren began to speak but was interrupted by Cassian and Nesta’s arrival. Cassian entered with all the swagger and confidence he usually held. Idrial’s gaze fell on Nesta and her tentative movements. It was clear she felt out of place and unwelcome considering the last time she’d been in this room, it had been to address everything and convince her to leave her home. Cassian strode over to Feyre, moving to kiss her cheek but meeting the same shields Idrial had found.</p><p>“Really? She’s shielded even in here?” Rhys just stretched out his legs, crossing one of his ankles over the other as he replied, “Even in here.” Cassian didn’t respond as he collapsed into the armchair on the other side of Amren, turning his focus to her. “It’s barely cold today.”</p><p>Amren scowled, adjusting the coat on her shoulders. “Keep talking like that and it’ll be your pelt I wear tomorrow.” Cassian raised his hands to feign innocence, a wild grin adorning his face. Amren’s attention settled on Nesta who remained standing by the doorway. She had taken enough steps into the room to be deemed sociable but was evidently keeping her distance.</p><p>Before neither Amren or Nesta could share icy words of greeting, Feyre cleared her throat and turned to Azriel. “All right, Az. Let’s hear it.” The Illyrian’s wings seemed to tighten in as his shadows curled around his ankles and neck. His face kept that cool composure of indifference as his deep voice rang across the room. “Queen Briallyn has been busier than we thought, but not in the way we expected. In the week I’ve been watching her, I…learned what he next steps are.” The way he paused told Idrial enough about the methods he’d used to ‘learn’ what Briallyn’s next plan of action was. It was easy to forget the harsh torture Azriel could inflict to garner information, especially considering his quiet demeanour.</p><p>“Get on with it,” Amren snapped from beside Idrial, shifting in her seat with anticipation and what looked like boredom. Amren was a cunning strategist but had little desire to sit around waiting for information; she much preferred to devise plans as quickly as possible so she could return to her own daily routines.</p><p>“The other queens indeed fled from Briallyn weeks ago, as Eris said. She alone sits in the throne room of their shared palace. And what Eris revealed about Beron was true, too: the High Lord visited Briallyn on the continent, pledging his forces to her cause But Briallyn’s gathering of armies, the alliance with Beron, is only the auxiliary force to what she has planned. Briallyn wishes to find the Cauldron again. In order to retrieve her youth.” Azriel’s jaw had tightened, his shadows crawling up his wings as he surveyed the room.</p><p>“She’ll never attain the Cauldron,” Amren spoke, waving a ring-laden hand with little concern for Briallyn’s desires. “No one but us, Miryam and Drakon know where it’s hidden. Even if Briallyn did uncover its location, there are enough wards and spells on it that no one could ever break through.”</p><p>“Briallyn knows this.” Azriel turned his gaze to Cassian. “What Vassa suspected is true. The death-lord Koschei has been whispering in Briallyn’s ear. He remains trapped at his lake, but his words carry on the wind to her. He is ancient, his depth of knowledge fathomless. He pointed Briallyn toward the Dread Trove—not for her sake, but for his own ends. He wishes to use it to free himself from his lake. And Briallyn is not the puppet we believed her to be—she and Koschei are allies. We need to ask Eris whether Beron knows about this. And the Trove.”</p><p>Idrial had frozen in her seat. She knew little of ancient enemies and death-lords like Koschei, but the fact that he was trapped in a lake rather than long dead spoke volumes about just how powerful he was. She stayed seated, only half listening to the others explain the Dread Trove and its items and the magic they possessed, even though she knew next to nothing of its power. It wasn’t until Feyre softly asked Nesta, “What exactly happened in the Cauldron?” that Idrial sunk back into reality once more, her clouded thoughts fading from her mind.</p><p>Silence clung to the air, everyone’s eyes falling on Nesta as she stood there, leaving Feyre’s question unanswered.</p><p>“Does it matter?” Cassian asked, clearing his throat. Nesta visibly settled at him taking the attention away from her for a moment while she collected her thoughts. Whatever had happened to her in that Cauldron was enough to send a chill down Idrial’s spine at her reaction.</p><p>“It’d help us gain insight,” Feyre offered.</p><p>“We can discuss it later—”</p><p>“I…” Nesta’s voice permeated. She closed her eyes, taking three deep breaths to settle herself before she continued on. “I wasn’t aware of what I took. Just that I was taking things the Cauldron did not want me to have. It seemed fitting, given what it was doing to me.” Once she paused, it was clear that was all the information she felt comfortable to offer. Idrial watched as Feyre nodded and turned to Amren. “So it’s highly possible that the Cauldron couldn’t imbue Briallyn the ability to track anything it Made, a sorry shadow of the original gift.”</p><p>Amren nodded, her features drawing into a look of concern. “If you were to gather all three objects, you could use the potency of their combined Made essence to track down the Cauldron, no matter where it is.</p><p>“Not to mention gain three objects of terrible power,” Azriel added from across the room. “Capable of granting even a human army an advantage against the Fae.”</p><p>All traces of Cassian’s easy smile were gone as he mused, “And you’d have an unstoppable force, able to march without rest or food. Open any door, and you could move that army of the dead wherever you wished. And with unrestrained influence, you could make any enemy territory and its people bow to you.”</p><p>Silence once again consumed the room. Idrial stared at a corner of the large rug that sat atop the floor of Rhys’ office. The sheer gravity of the situation weighed heavy on all of them, but she felt its crushing threat begin to suffocate her every thought. She’d known that Briallyn was scheming away in her corner of the world but never had she expected something as dangerous and grave as the Dread Trove. Even if she only wished to regain her former youth, there was no telling what else she might try and achieve if she were to get her hands on the other items of the Trove.</p><p>Conversation continued, Nesta asking of death-lords and Koschei’s power. Idrial hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever—didn’t think she’d be able to speak if she tried. Her head spun as more and more information piled in, leaving nothing but fear and worry for the future. She heard Feyre ask Azriel if Briallyn had found the Trove yet and silently prayed her most terrible thoughts would not come to fruition.</p><p>“Not as far as I could tell. The Dread Trove was last rumoured to be here in Prythian. That’s all Koschei knows, apparently. We have that on our side at least. Briallyn won’t risk coming over here—not yet. Even with Beron as an ally. And Koschei is bound to his lake. But they are readying Briallyn to come, gathering her realm’s greatest spies and warriors. There was already a host of them at the queen’s palace. Why Briallyn and Koschei took Eris’ soldiers is something I still haven’t figured out,” explained Azriel. Idrial felt her stomach settle a little, the fact that Briallyn had yet to recover the Trove was enough to soothe at least some of the thoughts that rushed through her mind.</p><p>She continued to listen as Rhysand instructed not to inform the other courts in order to prevent any of them attempting to go after the Trove, or triggering Beron himself to go searching for it. Feyre suggested they go looking for the items and Amren agreed, reminding the room that the Trove’s objects likely wanted to remain hidden, given the fact they hadn’t remembered its existence during the fight against Hybern. She continued to explain that Briallyn, too, was Made and could have been removed from the Dread Trove’s glamour, meaning that she could perhaps search for them, or have the items call to her and present themselves in a dream.</p><p>All eyes fell on Nesta as Amren’s voice paused. “You are the same. So is Elain.”</p><p>“If they’re all enchanting you to forget, how is it that Azriel was able to remember and bear the information here?” Nesta asked, her voice and stance rigid as though she could sense what was to be asked of her soon.</p><p>Amren offered her speculation as to the Trove’s glamour, “Perhaps once you learn of it, recognise it, the spell is broken. Or perhaps the Dread Trove wants us to know of it now, for some dark reason on its own.”</p><p>“So we track down the Dread Trove—how?” Cassian asked as he shifted in his seat.</p><p>“Using me,” came Elain’s gentle voice in the doorway. She’d appeared so silently no one had sensed her arrival, all eyes turning on her at the sound of her words. Nesta was immediate to protest, “No.”</p><p>Elain did not falter as she gazed upon her sister’s face. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”</p><p>“The last time we involved ourselves with the Caulron, it abducted you,” Nesta spoke. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I thought you didn’t have powers anymore.” Elain was quick to reply with, “I thought you didn’t either.”</p><p>Another wave of silence struck the room before Nesta instructed that Elain was not to go looking for it.</p><p>“So you look for it, girl,” Amren’s cool voice uttered.</p><p>“I don’t know how to find anything.”</p><p>“Like calls to like,” Amren countered, not once hesitating or pausing as she faced Nesta’s stare. “You were Made by the Cauldron as you may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” There was another pause as Amren looked to Elain as well. “Either of you.”</p><p>Nesta protested once more, recalling that when she had tracked the Cauldron before it had nearly killed her. Elain offered herself up again, happy to take the time to reacquaint herself with her powers and do everything she could to help. Nesta, again, declined the suggestion that Elain get involved, refusing to explain outside of telling her to stay away from the Cauldron.</p><p>It was clear from Elain’s retorting comments that she didn’t like to be treated as some fragile creature, too gentle and soft to get her hands dirty or make the choice to risk her safety. Even after Feyre had reminded Nesta that this was Elain’s choice, she was too stubborn to change her stance on the matter.</p><p>The two sisters continued their back-and-forth arguing while the others sensibly remained quiet. Not that anyone would be able to get a word in edgeways, but it was perhaps for the better to keep out of it. It wasn’t until Nesta twisted towards Feyre, tone accusatory. “Can’t <em>you</em> find the Trove? You’ve got all that magic, and you were Made yourself, even if it wasn’t by the Cauldron. You trained—you are a <em>warrior</em>. Can’t you find it?”</p><p>The silence that befell the room felt different somehow. Something anticipatory crept in as though there was something more behind Feyre’s apparent inaction.</p><p>“No,” Feyre’s voice was quiet as she looked over at Rhys who only nodded. “I can’t. I can’t risk it.” Curious eyes looked to Feyre, evidently unaware of whatever it was that prevented her from offering her own powers to search for the Trove.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I’m pregnant.” A beat of silence passed before Cassian let out a loud burst of joy that made Idrial jump in her seat. All tension shattered to pieces as Cassian practically leapt onto Rhys in excitement. Idrial smiled, offering her congratulations along with the others.</p><p>“I <em>knew</em> that stupid shield wasn’t just to practice something Helion taught you,” Cassian commented as the room finally began to settle from the rush of excitement. A buzz of chatter consumed them all as they near interrogated Rhys and Feyre on the pregnancy. Fae pregnancies were fairly rare and it could often take years before couples managed to conceive so it was only logical that they’d all get so worked up and excited over the news. Idrial was happy for the pair, even if she herself was not particularly fussed about the idea of having her own children. Rhys and Feyre’s child would be born into a family that would risk the entire world and all those in it just to keep them safe.</p><p>Once the exhilarating news had settled in, Nesta brought the conversation back to the Trove. “So you can’t do magic while pregnant?” Feyre visibly winced at the question, clearly feeling bad about being unable to offer up her powers. “I can, but given my unusual set of gifts, I’m not sure how it might impact the baby. Winnowing is fine, but some other powers, when we’re still so early in the pregnancy, could strain my body dangerously.” Rhys’s hand slid to Feyre’s shoulder, squeezing gently in comfort. Feyre just flicked at his hand, jokingly complaining about what a pain in the ass he’d become since she’d fallen pregnant. “Elain will need some time to dust off her powers to try to See the Trove. But you, Nesta…You could scry again.”</p><p>“As swiftly as possible. Time is not our ally,” Rhys added, his voice much less tentative and careful than Feyre’s. Idrial’s eyes slid towards Nesta, gauging her response. If Nesta felt uncomfortable, she didn’t let it show as she fixed her gaze on Amren. “You’re not Made?”</p><p>“Not as you were,” Amren answered. The grin that stretched across her face was taunting and could make even the strongest of warriors shudder with nerves. Not Nesta, though. She didn’t bother to react or give Amren the pleasure of getting to her when she asked, “What choice do I have?”</p><p>“You do have a choice. You will always have a choice here,” Rhys interjected. But Idrial knew as well as Nesta that there was no choice to be made here—not when Elain was the other option. No matter how Nesta felt about scrying or the Trove or any of the Inner Circle, there would never be a choice if Elain were involved.</p><p>“I’ll search for it. Of course I’ll search for it.”</p><p>“Good. And don’t be slow about it,” Amren spoke coolly, rising from her seat and stretching her arms above her in a motion that looked wildly feline.</p><p>Amren’s movement seemed to suggest the meeting was over, at least for the rest of them. Cassian had asked for a word with Rhysand about the Illyian legions, prompting everyone but him, Rhys, and Azriel to walk out into the extensive hallway. Idrial watched Nesta walk towards the front entry of the river house alone, contemplating joining her until Feyre had held out a hand stopping her, silently shaking her head before following after her older sister. Idrial began to walk the opposite way, meaning to admire Feyre’s artwork to busy herself while waiting for her escort back to the House.</p><p>“Regretting moving up to the House yet?” Amren asked, sidling up beside Idrial. She laughed softly before she replied, “Surprisingly, no. It’s…a lot I’ll admit, but it definitely doesn’t get boring.”</p><p>“I can imagine. The girl will never improve if she doesn’t at least <em>try</em>.”</p><p>“She is. Maybe not as much as it might seem, but she’s trying. At least she agreed to the scrying,” Idrial offered. She knew Nesta hadn’t made as much progress as perhaps the others would have hoped but she had faith in her.</p><p>Before Amren could offer a reply, loud shouts of joy echoed from the study. Idrial’s brows furrowed in curiosity.</p><p>“Mother knows what they’re shouting about now,” mused Amren, looking down the hall with a look of almost indifference. Idrial huffed a small laugh, smiling at the comment as she let her gaze wander about the hallway. Her thoughts began to drift as she absentmindedly took in the decoration when she heard Azriel’s voice come from beside her.</p><p>“Ready to head back?” She snapped back into reality and nodded, bidding goodbye to Amren as the two began to walk and catch up to Nesta and Cassian who stood by the now open doorway waiting for them. Cassian smiled lazily, leaning against the doorframe.</p><p>“Get lost or something?” He teased, sending Idrial a playful wink. She rolled her eyes, sending a small splash of water in the Illyrian’s face when he laughed heartily at her. Cassian quirked an eyebrow, opening his mouth to unleash a no doubt rude comment but was interrupted by Azriel’s stern voice.</p><p>“Enough. You’re not children—even if you act like it.”</p><p>“She splashed me with water!” Cassian accused, a finger pointing at Idrial.</p><p>“You started it so I don’t know what you’re complaining for,” Idrial answered, arms folded as she stared him down.</p><p>“And I’m finishing it,” chimed in Azriel, flicking Idrial’s forehead before walking out of the doorway, ignoring Idrial’s shouts of annoyance. Cassian stuck his tongue out, feeling victorious to have escaped Azriel’s wrath. Idrial rolled her eyes once more, choosing to ignore the taunt and stepped past Cassian through the doorway and out onto the pathway in front of the river house. As she walked past him, Cassian threw out his foot, causing Idrial to trip. She didn’t fall, but the fiery look of anger she directed at him had Cassian jogging ahead to quickly pick up Nesta and fly off.</p><p>“Coward,” Idrial scoffed, watching the two begin to disappear into the distance as the sounds of Nesta’s shouts faded away.</p><p>“I’m supposed to be chaperoning Nesta and Cassian and now I’ve got to babysit you and Cassian as well,” Azriel commented, smirking at Idrial as he scooped her into his arms and took off. The rush of wind sent Idrial’s braided hair wild but she didn’t bother to move it, knowing if she did Azriel would notice the pout on her face at his inference that her and Cassian’s behaviour was childish. He only laughed at her silence, wings gliding through the air as he headed back towards the House of Wind.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Overheard Conversations and Wandering Thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another chapter is here! Some hints of Azriel and Idrial's feelings crop up again here but it'll be a while before anything major happens between them so enjoy the crumb of interaction lol. I've got a lot of plans for this fic so I hope you all enjoy and stick around for more! Hopefully I'll sort out my schedule a bit so updates are more consistent and a lot less sporadic than they are at the moment but for now enjoy this new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Afternoon swiftly fell upon Velaris and before Idrial could blink, the sun was already setting beyond the mountains that overlooked the city. Since coming home from the morning trip to the river house, she’d taken herself down to the library and busied herself among the priestesses as she searched for new research material. Most of the priestesses kept silent and continued on with their own work, paying little attention to Idrial’s presence but a few would grace her with a nod and slight smile as they walked by. She was never offended if they didn’t speak or ignored her presence considering the circumstances that had led to their arrival at the library. She wasn’t even bothered by Nesta’s lacking desire to hold a conversation on the few occasions they crossed paths as Nesta went about organising the books Clotho had set aside for her. The two had walked together down to the library after lunch, only sharing a light conversation about Rhys and Feyre’s baby before going their separate ways. Idrial considered asking about the Trove or the scry but thought better of it; Nesta had seemed tense enough without the reminder of what was to come.</p>
<p>By the time the evening bells rang to signal the end of the working hours, Idrial’s eyes were sore with tiredness and a dull ache lingered at the back of her neck from spending so long hunched over and reading. All she could think about as she replaced the tomes she no longer needed was a hot bath, a warm meal, and her comfy bed. Tonight was definitely the night she’d catch up on all those lost hours of sleep from the night before.</p>
<p>Idrial had been surprised to see Nesta waiting for her by the entrance to the library. Neither offered a word of greeting and simply walked in comfortable silence back up to the House where Cassian and Azriel had occupied themselves for the afternoon. The four ate dinner together for perhaps the first time since Idrial’s arrival at the House of Wind. At least one person was usually away on an errand or was too busy elsewhere to bother eating with the rest of them. It was nice to be in each other’s company as they ate—even if Cassian did grumble about the House not letting him have a glass of wine thanks to Nesta’s presence in the dining room.</p>
<p>Once they had all finished eating, Nesta quickly retired to her room while Cassian and Azriel sat upon the sofas of the sitting room, relaxing beside the crackling logs of the fireplace. Idrial had settled herself in the porcelain bath, lavender scented bubbles covering her entire body as she soaked with a plate of chocolate coated strawberries and a glance of wine, courtesy of the House. The room was mostly dark save for the warm glow of the faelights that were affixed to the tall walls of her bathing chambers and Idrial could feel her eyes growing heavier by the second. Judging by the lingering light still in the sky, she guessed it to be nearing ten o’clock. Sighing to herself, Idrial pulled herself out of the bath before she could succumb to the pull of her body’s desire to sleep.</p>
<p>After she was dry and in her comfortable sleep attire, Idrial combed her fingers threw the damp tangles of her hair, feeling far too tired to bother brushing it through properly. Despite the heaviness in her eyes, Idrial didn’t want to sleep just yet. It was still a little too early and if she let herself collapse into bed now, she’d no doubt be awake again before the sun rose. So she slid on the cosy slippers kept beside her bed and walked down the hall towards the private library to pick out something to read. When choosing between novels, Idrial’s favourites were also adventure tales in far off lands that were full of twists and turns and inevitable heartbreak when the one character she grew particularly attached to met their demise. Tonight, however, she felt like indulging in a nice romance.</p>
<p>There was something exhilarating about reading novels of love and the mixed emotions that came with it. Considering the distinct lack of romance in her own life, it felt nice to vicariously live through the eyes of the fictional accounts of blossoming relationships. She’d had her fair share of lovers over the years, though none were particularly recent nor were they especially remarkable experiences. That wasn’t to say she only had terrible stories of disappointing nights, but just that she had never felt particularly strongly about any of them. Though she supposed that was no doubt due to the drifting thoughts that always seemed to land on Azriel whenever she did find herself attracting the attention of another Fae.</p>
<p>The loud crack of a log in the fireplace pulled Idrial out of her thoughts and she quickly picked out a novel with a deep red spine, recognising it as one of the books she’d overheard Mor excitedly gushing over to Feyre a few months ago. Smiling at approval in her choice, Idrial made her way back out of the private library.</p>
<p>As she neared the entrance to the sitting room, Cassian and Azriel’s voices filtered out into the hallway. Idrial hated to eavesdrop but found her curiosity getting the best of her.</p>
<p>“You think you’ll ever be ready for one?” Cassian asked Azriel. <em>One what?</em> Idrial wondered as she shifted her weight onto the other foot, quietly leaning against the wall so as not to alert them of her presence. She did feel bad for listening in, but she just couldn’t bring herself to move from that spot.</p>
<p>“Do you want a child?” She heard Cassian ask. <em>Oh. That’s what he meant.</em></p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter what I want.” There was something distant in Azriel’s voice as he spoke and Idrial felt a wave of guilt flow through her for listening to what felt like such a private conversation. Fae children were regarded as precious gifts, generally rare yet still sought after so heavily. To hear Azriel dodge the question sent an odd feeling through her, even if she was fairly confident and content in her decision to not bear children.</p>
<p>Idrial moved from her spot and tried to block out the rest of their conversation about children until she heard Cassian mutter, “Turn a blind eye, chaperone.” Her eyes widened as what felt like a million thoughts rushed through her head before she walked in the direction of her room, past the open doorway. She silently prayed the two just assumed she was passing by and didn’t suspect she’d listened in at all. Cassian had stepped out into the hallway just as she passed the door, the smile he offered her strained. Much to her pleasure, he didn’t say a word as she paused and just continued on down the hallway, past his own bedroom door and towards Nesta’s. Idrial blinked, still stood in the hall with the novel clutched to her chest. It was evident as to why he’d gone to Nesta’s room so late at night but now Idrial contemplated turning back to the private library so as not to overhear any more sounds that weren’t for her ears.</p>
<p>Before she could make a decision, she felt Azriel’s presence beside her. “I might just be the worst chaperone in all existence.” He laughed as he rested a hand on the doorframe. Idrial smiled, arms still hugging her book as she glanced at the floor, feeling a warmth spread through her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I doubt he would have listened even if you did try to stop him.”</p>
<p>“Probably not,” Azriel chuckled. “But then I could at least tell Rhys I tried.”</p>
<p>“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Idrial offered, smiling up at the towering Illyrian. Silence befell the two of them, neither knowing what to say. It wasn’t until a rather telling noise coming from Nesta’s room that Idrial felt her cheeks redden once more. She cleared her throat, feeling all kinds of awkwardness and fiddled with the corners of the pages of her book.</p>
<p>“I’m going to go, uh, read this. In the library. Away from…that.” She felt her insides squeeze at the smirk on Azriel’s face at her awkward, embarrassed state. Little did he know why she felt so on edge overhearing Nesta while he stood beside her. Idrial would die before she admitted the not-so-innocent thoughts that had consumed her consciousness. She forced a smile, her eyes not quite meeting Azriel’s before she turned around and headed back to the private library, away from any and all noises she could possibly overhear.</p>
<p>The following morning, Idrial woke beneath the sheets of her bed with no memory of how she got there. Casting her mind back to the previous night she remembered sitting in one of the armchairs, book in hand, and reading beside the warmth of the fire. She’d been so tired that she thought she’d fallen asleep tucked comfortably into her seat but in her tired haze, she must have padded back into her bedroom and settled into bed without realising it. Feeling far more rested this morning than she had the previous day, Idrial climbed out of bed to get ready for the day.</p>
<p>Meanwhile Azriel stood in the training ring, adjusting the laces of his leathers while he amusedly listened to Cassian and Nesta pretend nothing of interest had transpired between the two of them in the night. Neither one of them was particularly convincing. As he stood there, blocking out the sounds of Nesta and Cassian talking, his mind was casted back to the previous night. To the amusing encounter with Idrial. To the events that followed.</p>
<p>He’d spotted her reddened cheeks even in the dull lighting of the hallway, sensing her embarrassment and awkward inner turmoil regarding Nesta and Cassian’s…activities. In the time he’d known Idrial, he had never heard of her having feelings or taking lovers during her time at the Night Court. Sure, there he’d seen hushed private conversations between her and Mor that were no doubt about some wild escapades they’d had, but Idrial had never been one to openly talk about that side of herself. It was no surprise to Azriel that she felt flustered by the knowledge of what was occurring in the bedroom beside hers. The smirk that stretched across his face was involuntary but he did little to try and stop it. Once Idrial had near scurried away in the direction of the library, book clutched to her chest, Azriel turned and made for the door to leave the House of Wind.</p>
<p>Too many nights he’d gone out into the night air either to fly or train in the training pit. His head was clouded and his shadows grew heavier on his shoulders every day. Being outside alone with his thoughts, with nothing but the frigid air of the night and the moon and her stars shining above him, Azriel felt his mind clear. Nothing could fully drive away all of those concerns, of course, but even the slightest bit of reprieve was welcome.</p>
<p>As he took up one of the training swords, turning it in his hand as he eyed up one of the targets, Azriel felt all the crowded thoughts rush into the forefront of his mind. Fast and heavy swings came down on the training target, leaving dents in the wood with every hard hit. His breathing was heavy and despite the cold chill that struck his skin, small beads of sweat formed at his temples. With every strike of the sword, he could feel his internal stress slowly fade into nothingness. The empty feelings they left behind were far more manageable than the constant tension and strain that left his head pounding.</p>
<p>Though as he let out his frustrations, Azriel’s head couldn’t shake one thought away no matter how hard he tried. Idrial. Never before had she plagued his mind so often. It wasn’t until her recent move up to the House of Wind that he’d thought about her this much. The mental image of her rosy cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, as she tried to avoid eye contact with him just would not disappear from his mind’s eye.</p>
<p>Pausing his motions, Azriel listened only to the sounds of his laboured breathing, head tilted back and eyes closed. He barely registered his fingers loosening their grip on the sword’s hilt, or the clanging noise it made as it made contact with the floor. Everything was just Idrial, Idrial, Idrial. What made it all so much more confusing was how he knew he felt towards Elain. Azriel was certain in the emotions that had bloomed in the time he’d known Feyre’s sister; he could barely deny the mutual interest between them. Of course neither he nor Elain had acted directly on it but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed signs that perhaps she felt a similar way, even if Lucien were her mate. There was an element of jealousy there. Of Rhys. Of Cassian. That Rhys had found his mate, the other half of his soul, in Feyre. That Cassian had found whatever it was between him and Nesta. It was almost certain that the two of them were now forever entwined. Azriel wanted that, wanted the chance to experience the same overwhelming love and admiration and desire for another being. Elain seemed like the obvious answer to that equation. Three Archeron sisters for three Illyrian brothers. But even as his mind tried to focus on Elain, the image of Idrial drifted back in.</p>
<p>Azriel let out a noise of anguish, frustration, confusion. He wasn’t entirely sure what he felt or what he needed to let out. All he did know was that he wanted life to return to what it was before. It had never been simple or easy to figure out but at least there would be none of the inner conflict battling day and night.</p>
<p>He bent down to pick up the sword and return it to the rack of training weapons, wiping away the sweat that trickled down the side of his face with his free hand. Letting out another sigh in the hopes it’d relieve the headache that now plagued him, Azriel began to make his way back into the House. Enough time had passed that Nesta and Cassian would have probably finished their late-night excursion and the two were probably sleeping away in their rooms.</p>
<p>Quietly walking through the entrance and into the hallway, Azriel felt something within him pulling in the direction of the private library, almost like an innate compulsion that he couldn’t ignore. Perhaps against his better judgement, Azriel followed where his intuition took him and saw the dull glow of light emanating between the cracks in the door to the library. Idrial was still in there, reading by faelight. He gently pushed open the wooden door, peering into the room silently so as not to alert her as to his presence. Though his actions were for naught when he saw Idrial had fallen asleep, book resting open on her chest as her head tipped over, hair unbound and spilling over the velvet of the armchair.</p>
<p>Warmth blossomed in his chest at the sight. The fire was still alight and he could see she was still mid-chapter as he carefully removed the book from her sleeping body. Curiosity had him scanning the pages, expecting to see glimpses of some adventurous novel he knew she liked to read, only to find his cheeks flushing at the steamy encounter that lay before him on the pages of the novel. Idrial was definitely spending too much time with Nesta if this was now her primary choice for late night entertainment. Azriel found a loose leaf of paper on the desk and slotted it into the page, leaving the book on the wooden table as he turned to examine Idrial. He could leave her to sleep there till morning but then with her head tilted like that, she’d no doubt be in pain all day. He couldn’t bring himself to wake her up—didn’t want to explain why he now stood looking at her sleeping body.</p>
<p>So, Azriel did the only thing he could think to and leant down, arms gently and carefully tucking under her limp body as he lifted her out of the armchair. He was careful with his movements, making sure not to trip or accidentally kick anything that could awaken her. Idrial stirred a little in her sleep, mumbling something under he breath that Azriel couldn’t quite make out.</p>
<p>Still, he shushed her, keeping his voice low and soothingly quiet as he crept down the hallway and towards her bedroom, noticing how the faelights extinguished as he walked past them. Damned House had probably done something with its odd magic enchantments to make him want to look for Idrial. That’s what he would tell himself at least. He couldn’t fathom the weight of any other possibilities that might explain the pull he’d felt. Still, there was something domestic in the way he gently laid Idrial down, pulling sheets to cover her and watching as she nestled into the warmth. Azriel let himself linger for a moment, watching the slow rise and all of her chest before he made to leave and return to his room. When he felt her small hand clutch onto his wrist, Azriel froze.</p>
<p>“Stay,” Idrial mumbled, voice deeper than usual with the sleep that threatened to consume her once more. Azriel’s hand pried Idrial’s fingers from his arm, trying to ignore how much he liked the feel of her tiny hand in his much larger hand. “Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered, returning her hand to the comforting warmth of her bed. Idrial murmured something else under her breath as she shifted, sleep overcoming her once more. Azriel didn’t let himself linger any longer, leaving her room and walking back to his own. Once rid of his clothes and sat in his bed, wings outstretched beneath him. Somehow, for the first time in who knows how long, sleep managed to find Azriel quickly and it wasn’t long before he too fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, the tingling feeling of Idrial’s fingers on his wrist still present as had sent shocks of tiny lightning bolts beneath his skin.</p>
<p>Once morning had struck, Azriel had simply let his body lull him through his usual morning routine before heading out to the training pit. Even now he felt as though he was moving on a predetermined schedule. Last night’s crowded thoughts and eventual headache were long gone and it left him feeling mostly clear and surprisingly without any of the usual frustrations or bothers. That was, until Idrial also appeared in the training ring.</p>
<p>Idrial didn’t know what had compelled her to go outside and join Cassian, Nesta and Azriel. Maybe it was overhearing Cassian tell Nesta they’d be making a start on hand-to-hand combat. Maybe it was just general curiosity as to how Nesta had improved physically. Or maybe her body wanted a change of routine and sought after some physical exercise to break the usual cycle she followed. Still, she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel somewhat uncomfortable to have Azriel’s eyes on her. There had been something lingering in his gaze that confused her. Her memories of the previous night provided no reason as to why he was looking at her like but perhaps he was just confused to see her there, willing to exert herself early in the morning.</p>
<p>“Show us how you two fight,” Nesta instructed, voice pulling Idrial’s attention away from Azriel’s stare. “I want to know what I’m up against. What I saw in battle was different, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” came Cassian’s answer. Idrial joined Nesta’s side as he continued on with his explanation. “A variation of what we do here, but it requires a different sort of fighting. We won’t start battle training for a while yet.” Cassian then turned back to Azriel and asked, “You want to do a little sparring? It’s been a while since I wiped the floor with you.” Challenge sparkled in his grin, knowing that Azriel wasn’t one to back down especially when there were spectators present. Azriel rolled his shoulder, relieving some tension before he removed his jacket and shirt. It took all of the self-control Idrial could muster to not show any kind of facial reaction to the tanned skin and muscles that were now on show. Cassian followed suit though Idrial found it much easier to ignore his shirtless form.</p>
<p>Nesta and Idrial watched as Cassian not-so-subtly flexed his abs as he approached the circle that lined the floor of the training pit.</p>
<p>“Pathetic, Cass,” Azriel chuckled, eyeing up his opponent.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome for this by the way,” Nesta spoke quietly so as not to let the two Illyrians hear. She had leaned in closer to Idrial who tried to conceal her laughter. Whether Nesta could sense the way she’d sucked in a breath at the sight of Azriel, she wasn’t sure, but Idrial simply decided not to care. For now, she’d let herself enjoy the sight before her.</p>
<p>“Where have you been exercising these days?” Cassian asked, gesturing towards Azriel’s own stomach muscles.</p>
<p>“Here. At night.”</p>
<p>“Can’t sleep?” The conversation was normal, caring even, though the fighting stances they now took up suggested otherwise. A tension of friendly competition had now settled in the air, silencing Nesta and Idrial as they merely watched.</p>
<p>“Something like that.” A singular shadow of Azriel’s had curled around his neck being the only one willing to brave the direct sunlight. The two shifted their footsteps, conversation now dwindling before Cassian went on to explain the plan of action to Nesta. “We’ll go full speed, then stop, and I’ll break it down for you. All right?”</p>
<p>Nesta simply crossed her arms and kept her face neutral as she surveyed their stances. The two fighters launched into action, slow circles of delicate footwork as they waited for the other to make their striking move. Idrial had seen them spar before and knew the two were fairly evenly matched. After all, they’d spent literal centuries fighting beside each other and training together.</p>
<p>“Well? Why don’t you show me what all that night-time brooding resulted in?” Cassian was taunting Azriel, trying to lure him into striking first but Azriel refused to take the bait. Both were too stubborn to relinquish to the other.</p>
<p>“Is this really as it is?” Nesta asked, scoffing beside Idrial. “Circling and taunting?”</p>
<p>“And there I was hoping for some morning entertainment,” Idrial added as she continued to watch them both. Cassian grinned, gaze glancing in their direction for a split second and Azriel fell for his deception, launching toward him.</p>
<p>Cassian easily met his fist and deflected the movement but Azriel was just as quick to block the counter-attack. Their movements continued, working in tandem as one struck while the other blocked. The speed at which they moved despite the bulk of their bodies was impressive and neither packed particularly light punches either.</p>
<p>“Right,” Cassian panted, chest heaving with exertion. “Whoever lands the next blow wins.”</p>
<p>“That’s ridiculous. We go until one of us eats dirt.” Azriel’s competitive streak was fully on show and Idrial didn’t bother to hide the smile as she secretly rooted for his win.</p>
<p>“My money’s on the quiet one,” Nesta whispered, eyes following their movements deftly.</p>
<p>“Without a doubt,” came Idrial’s reply. The two shared a glance, devilish grins adorning their faces. It was the first time Idrial had seen Nesta smile, even if the look had been wicked and wild with imagination. They returned their gazes to the display of muscle and precision, watching as Azriel’s head snapped towards them with a look of alarm in his eyes. Cassian looked at them too, instant concern falling on his features as his eyes darted to Nesta. Azriel struck a hefty punch to his jaw, sending Cassian staggering. He cursed at the sneaky move of deception, shaking his head as Azriel let out a soft laugh. Cassian rubbed a hand at his jaw, soothing the dull ache that lingered. The two once more turned to their spectators, not missing the slight colour that stained both of their cheeks.</p>
<p>Just as Azriel had landed his final blow, Nesta had let out a sigh and commented on the sight before them. Her thoughts had been running wild and Idrial would be lying to say she too hadn’t found herself entranced by the display, thoughts drifting away to much less innocent places.</p>
<p>Azriel coughed as he approached the water station in search of a drink to cool the heat in his body. He had noticed the look on Nesta and Idrial’s faces, reminded of the flustered image of Idrial from the previous night. This stain of colour, however, was different. Less of embarrassment and more…of enticement—as if something she had seen in their shirtless sparring had triggered an array of thoughts. Azriel pushed it away, shaking any and all suggestive ideas that decided to appear in his mind. He also ignored Cassian’s teasing comments that both Idrial and Nesta were drooling. Didn’t want to think of what that might mean or how it could change things. Instead, he simply disregarded it all as merely two spectators revelling in the sight of two attractive males. Nothing more and nothing less. He definitely wasn’t going to let this fester in his mind as the training session carried on, Nesta and Cassian working through the moves together while Idrial busied herself with less strenuous exercises to keep herself moving but not so much that she’d be too sore later. Azriel definitely did not find his mind swarming with all kinds of thoughts of her. None whatsoever.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Evening Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days had passed by quickly since the morning Idrial had first joined Nesta and Cassian’s training session and watched him and Azriel spar together. She’d found herself out in the pit for some morning exercise on a few occasions, feeling surprisingly energised after exerting herself shortly after awakening. In the days following, the sessions had grown to include one of the priestesses, Gwyn, which had been a shock to the system. Idrial had remembered Cassian mentioning Nesta’s idea to invite the priestesses but had never thought any would have taken up her offer. To know Nesta had reached out to someone who’d reached back was a clear sign of progress and it had warmed Idrial. What with the stresses of the Trove and her scrying, it was nice to see Nesta had something like a friend in Gwyn.</p>
<p>Idrial hadn’t joined for training this morning, not overly bothered in becoming a permanent member to the rigorous exercises and training plans. She was confident that she could save herself in a bind, especially with her abilities, and that was enough for her. Becoming a fully-fledged warrior like her Illyrian companions or Feyre was not where she needed to be and she was completely fine with that.</p>
<p>The House’s residents had been coming and going all day, Cassian leaving for the Illyrian mountains and Nesta joining him to visit someone in Windhaven—Emerie perhaps? Nesta had only briefly mentioned meeting her in one of the shops in the Illyrian village based by the war camp. After they’d returned, Cassian had left again with Rhys in tow to speak with Eris, no doubt regarding the Trove and the new information they’d learned. Idrial had mostly kept to herself for the day, a mere bystander as everyone went about their individual tasks and jobs.</p>
<p>She currently sat in the privacy of her room, organising the clutter that had accumulated all too quickly. Despite any attempts to keep everything tidy, Idrial found herself leaving loose sheets at the makeshift desk or depositing items of clothing on the floor instead of tidying them away before washing them. Anytime she walked in a noticed the slowly building clutter, she’d shrug it off and leave it for her future self to deal with. Naturally, her future self continued to delay tidying until it was near impossible to avoid. Idrial felt a pang of hunger strike her stomach after having eaten something small of lunch. It appeared to be nearing time for dinner, or at least a socially acceptable meal time given that the food was ready as and when called upon. However, Idrial continued to finish organising the last of the mess she’d accumulated; if she didn’t do it now then she’d never do it—or would at least delay it until the next time she felt motivated to tidy again.</p>
<p>As she deftly moved loose sheets into a somewhat orderly pile to sort through later on, a knock sounded at her door.</p>
<p>“Come in,” she called, not bothering to look up or pause her movements. Idrial didn’t notice it was Azriel until his voice sounded from the now open doorway.</p>
<p>“Ready for something to eat?” Idrial stopped and glanced up at him, confusion covering her face. He never usually asked her to come eat. No one did. If someone wasn’t at the dining table then it was just assumed they either weren’t in the House or wanted to eat elsewhere. It felt odd to have someone remind her to eat.</p>
<p>“Uh, sure. Let me just finish piling these up and I’ll be ready.” Azriel nodded in response, a mischievous glint in his eye. Idrial eyed him suspiciously before she returned her attention to the last small task. Azriel clearly knew something she didn’t and Idrial wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to know either.</p>
<p>Regardless, she followed Azriel out into the hallway once she was finished and the two walked together to the dining room in silence. Idrial wasn’t sure why he’d waited for her either, nor why his footsteps seemed heavier than usual. Azriel often opted for the silent approach but was apparently making his movements known for some reason—no doubt related to the odd look in his eye earlier.</p>
<p>As they approached, the sounds of rapid shuffling could be heard coming from the dining room. Cassian and Nesta. Idrial instantly noticed the light flush of Cassian’s cheeks and the way his chest seemed to move in heavy breaths. Nesta was seated two seats away from him looking mildly dishevelled and uncomfortable. <em>Ah. So that’s why Azriel was walking so loud. He had known exactly what was occurring and had interrupted on purpose. And had dragged her into it too.</em></p>
<p>“Good evening,” Azriel spoke in an unnervingly calm tone. Idrial kept quiet, knowing exactly how awkward their appearance made things.</p>
<p>“Az.” Cassian’s voice was pure ire. Clearly he did not appreciate the intrusion. Idrial couldn’t blame him as she took a seat opposite Nesta, offering her an apologetic smile that she hoped would prove her innocence to Azriel’s intentional interruption. Nesta fiddled with a strand of hair, her eyes not quite meeting Idrial’s. Again, she couldn’t blame her for the reaction—this was hardly an ideal situation for any of them besides Azriel. Cassian shifted in his seat to look at Nesta who barely offered him a glance as she rose and bid them all, “Good night.”</p>
<p>Once she had left the room and was safely out of earshot, Cassian glared at Azriel. “Thanks for that.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Azriel happily ate, a knowing smile stretching across his face as he kept his attention on his food. Idrial had yet to touch her own meal, the sheer tension and awkwardness preventing her from eating just yet.</p>
<p>“Asshole.”</p>
<p>Azriel laughed. “Don’t show your hand all at once, Cass.”</p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“Save something for later,” he answered, nodding towards the door as he took another bite.</p>
<p>“Busybody,” Cassian complained, resting his cheek in his hand as he stared off into the distance. Feeling the hostility fizzle away, Idrial let herself start eating and only hoped whatever came out of Azriel’s mouth next wouldn’t provoke Cassian any more than he already had.</p>
<p>“You let her suck your cock in the middle of the dining room. At a table Idrial and I are currently using to eat our dinner. I’d say that entitles me to an opinion.” Idrial coughed, eyes shooting to Azriel. Cassian laughed as he leaned back in his chair, all annoyance and frustration now gone. “Fair enough.”</p>
<p>“Can we at least agree the dining room is a safe space from now on. I don’t want to come in for an innocent lunchtime meal to find you two defiling the table,” Idrial said, gaze flickering between the two Illyrians.</p>
<p>“He’s the one who clearly can’t keep it in his pants so don’t look at me,” Azriel replied as he took another bite of food. Cassian crinkled his nose at the comment.</p>
<p>“At least I had the manners to put it away when you walked in.”</p>
<p>“Barely.”</p>
<p>“Enough. I don’t want to think about it while I’m eating,” Idrial glared at them both. While she had no problems with Cassian and Nesta’s growing relationship, she didn’t particularly want any mental images of either of them crossing her mind.</p>
<p>“What? Is the thought distracting you from eating that sausage there?” Cassian teased, winking at her. Idrial considered launching it at his face and clearly Cassian read her mind as he let out another shaking laugh. Even Azriel offered a chuckle as he too noticed she’d yet to eat the sausage on her plate.</p>
<p>“Children. Both of you.” Idrial giggled into her glass of water, shaking her head at the immaturity of it. Of course, she wouldn’t change things for the world. Even if she did fancy throwing something at Cassian’s smug face, she never felt happier—lighter—than in moments like this where all responsibilities and concerns for human queens and Dread Troves wandered far away to offer some reprieve. Even if it was only a singular fleeting moment of calm before the inevitable storm that would crash and thunder around them, Idrial was grateful for the small glimmer of hope—a promise of the future that would come to be once they overcame each obstacle in their path. The glittering charm flooded her veins and kept that feeling of pure elation coursing through her body even as she was lulled into a deep and peaceful sleep hours later.</p>
<p>Two more days passed by with Idrial scouring for anything that she might find useful in helping recover the items of the Dread Trove. She’d even spoken with Gwyn on a few occasions after Nesta had mentioned the priestess’ own research into the matter. Neither had been entirely successful thanks to the hidden nature of the Trove as an ancient, historical relic. But the two were not discouraged by the apparent lack of material. It gave Idrial a stronger sense of purpose knowing that she could use her research skills for something bigger again; it was hard to not feel as though her place in the Inner Circle was not one she deserved. After all, she didn’t have the immense power of her High Lord and High Lady, nor did she have the battle prowess of Cassian or the shadows and spying capabilities as Azriel. Mor’s enchanting way with words did more than enough to negotiate and play the part of socialite with all manners of Fae. And Amren as second-in-command and never-ending wisdom was more than she could dream of possessing. Even now, Nesta and Elain were coming into their own and finding their purpose among the Night Court. Idrial knew she wasn’t useless, of course, and she knew the others wouldn’t dream of suggesting she did not work hard, but there would always be that lingering voice in the back of her mind with its dark tendrils of doubt and insecurity brushing inside her skull to remind her of its presence.</p>
<p>When those menacing thoughts did come creeping in, Idrial would wave them off, feigning nonchalance until she convinced herself she did not believe them. Her efforts found varying degrees of success but lately they had been far more scarce than usual—not that she was complaining. Still, the reassurance that her work and research might prove any way helpful for Nesta and her efforts to find the Dread Trove was enough to bat away the dregs of those anxieties.</p>
<p>Although it hadn’t been overly pleasant when Azriel had mentioned the monthly court dinner at Feyre and Rhysand’s river house—where Nesta was not invited or expected to be present. It didn’t take much to figure out that they would likely end up talking about the Trove and Nesta’s cooperation with the task at hand. In the past few days, Nesta hadn’t mentioned scrying once and had left her hopes in Gwyn or Idrial finding something within the extensive catalogue of the library. Their research plans had bought her more time, but the pressure of time constraints were looming above all their heads and it would not be long before someone reminded Nesta of her imminent duties—lest she wish for Elain to take her place as the vessel through which to find the items of the Trove.</p>
<p>Still, Idrial tried not to let concerns for Nesta get in the way of her evening down at the river house, secretly enjoying the excuse to get dressed up a little. She would still look subdued stood next to Feyre or Amren, or Mor if she was back in Velaris, but there was still a warm feeling of elegance striking her features. Idrial had opted to let her unruly hair spill onto her pale shoulders and down her back in light brown waves. Her dress was a deep shade of green so dark it almost appeared black but once she stepped under the glow of faelight, its green hue and speckles of shimmering glitter twinkling as she moved. She wore a simple gold necklace that sat on the bare skin of her collarbones, drawing emphasis to the low cut of the bodice. The skirt of the dress flowed with every step she took, two slits drawing up to her mid thighs and offering glimpses of her legs. She felt about as close to ethereal as one could probably feel in such a dress but Idrial didn’t allow herself to admire the gown for much longer, already sensing Cassian itching to tease her for taking so long even if she was still ready with plenty of time to spare.</p>
<p>Arriving at the river house as the sun was slowly beginning its descent was glorious. Amber golden light dressed the estate, somehow making it appear even more opulent and magnificent than under the morning skies. Amren had arrived not long after Idrial, Cassian, and Azriel with Varian on her arm. In the time since the two had first become acquainted, they had grown closer than Idrial had expected but now it felt strange to not see Amren accompanied by her Summer Court lover.</p>
<p>What had started as a regular dinner had transpired, as it usually did, into a night of wine and hearty conversation. Time had long passed into the night and despite Feyre retiring to bed, their energy was still high and bright. That was, until Amren surveyed the room, wine glass perched in her hand as she spoke. “Nesta has to start looking for the Trove.” Granted, it had taken much longer for the evening to divulge into talk of Nesta and her task, but naturally the greatest concern would remain ever present. Cassian, seated opposite Amren, met her steel gaze.</p>
<p>“Nesta’s been looking. Don’t push her.”</p>
<p>“She’s had the priestesses and poor Idrial here researching for her. I’d hardly call that looking.” Rhys leaned in as he offered his own thoughts on the matter. Idrial stilled. She hadn’t realised he had considered her research at all, assuming it had been a passing comment from Cassian. She raised her hands before uttering, “It’s no problem at all. The research has given me something useful to do. I’m sure Nesta will look for other methods soon.” Cassian offered a warm, grateful smile. It often felt like he was the only one defending Nesta at times so to have an ally was a reassurance he happily accepted.</p>
<p>“Be that as it may, Nesta still has her own task to do that she’s expertly putting off,” Amren commented, taking a sip of wine as she leant into Varian’s arm that was draped over the back of her chair.</p>
<p>“You still haven’t asked Helion to research the Trove in his libraries?” Varian queried, seeming shocked that the High Lord of the Day Court hadn’t yet been contacted. It made sense that Helion would be their next port of call should the situation call for it, but keeping the Trove as private as possible also felt necessary if they were to resolve the issue with Briallyn without any other rising threats jeopardising their success.</p>
<p>“Helion is a last resort. Which we may come to in a matter of days if Nesta does not at least attempt a scrying.” Rhysand paused while he sipped his wine and then directed his last words toward Cassian. “I’d have Elain try her hand before we approach him, though.” Elain had left alongside Feyre, mentioning that she needed to be awake early in the morning to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden.</p>
<p>“Nesta will do it,” Cassian assured. “If only to keep Elain from putting herself at risk. But you have to understand that Nesta was deeply affected by what happened during the war—Elain was taken by the Caldron after she scried. You can’t blame her for hesitating.”</p>
<p>It was Amren who countered Cassian this time. “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Idrial’s gaze was centred on her own glass of wine but felt Azriel’s energy still and stiffen from his seat beside her.</p>
<p>“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” Idrial tried to ignore the flash in her chest at his protectiveness toward Elain.</p>
<p>“But Nesta should?” Cassian’s voice was low, a near growl emanating from him. All eyes shot toward him and his expression softened, offering Azriel an apologetic look. Azriel merely shrugged, apparently unbothered. Amren drained her glass and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes. Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to.” Those last words were very clearly meant for Azriel. “Don’t underestimate her.”</p>
<p>Cassian and Azriel both looked to Rhys and Idrial found herself looking upon the High Lord too, curious for his own outlook. Judging by the nonchalant expression as he continued to sip his wine, Rhys had no issues with Amren’s order as his second-in-command.</p>
<p>“It’s not right to wield Elain as a threat to manipulate Nesta into scrying.” Cassian had returned his gaze to Amren and looked less than pleased.</p>
<p>“There are harsher ways to convince Nesta, boy.” Idrial didn’t bother to hide the shudder that shot down her spine. There were indeed harsher ways to encourage Nesta to scry and all of them were undoubtedly unpleasant and unwelcome.</p>
<p>“You’re a fool if you think threats will make her obey you.” Thick tension clung to everyone’s skin. No one seemed to dare interject Cassian and Amren’s exchange.</p>
<p>“We are on the cusp of another war. We let the Cauldron slip from our hands in the last one and nearly cost us everything. We must head off this potential disaster before we lose the advantage. If we need to manipulate Nesta into scrying, even by using Elain against her, then we’ll do what is necessary.” Idrial hated the idea of coercing Nesta but deep down she knew that in the end it would be for the better. Whether it was Nesta or Elain who scried for the Trove, it would be an opportunity they couldn’t afford to waste.</p>
<p>“I don’t like it,” Cassian muttered.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to like it,” Amren replied. “You just have to shut up and do as you’re told.”</p>
<p>“Amren,” interrupted Rhys. His eyes and voice were brimming with warning. She was close to taking it too far and the last thing they needed was a full-blown argument breaking out. Amren didn’t seem overly concerned, knowing she had gotten her point across to Cassian. Varian, however, was frowning at her.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Haven’t we talked about this? About…being nice?” <em>He is the only one of us who could get away with saying that.</em> Idrial thought to herself. She had always admired Amren’s sharp tongue and bluntness, providing she wasn’t on the receiving end of it of course. Granted, Amren could be a little <em>too</em> sharp at times—not unlike Nesta—but to hear Varian so casually suggest she could have a nicer approach was almost unsettling.</p>
<p>Amren merely rolled her eyes and softened her expression ever so slightly—so slight you could blink and miss it. She once more met Cassian’s stare and repeated, “A week. Nesta gets a week.” Cassian nodded, leaning back with an exasperated expression on his face.</p>
<p>Rhys sighed as he rose from his seat. “Now that all of that has been addressed, who wants another bottle of wine opening?”</p>
<p>An hour passed before Idrial could feel her eyes growing heavy as the wine coursed through her body. She wasn’t entirely inebriated but certainly felt content and buzzing with warmth. It had been Azriel to offer a hand and take her back to the House, claiming he was also tired and ready for some rest. She gratefully accepted and happily rested her weary head against his chest as they flew in the darkness of the night. Velaris was almost entirely covered in darkness, the odd faelight shining from the few establishments still open at such a late hour. Idrial paid little attention, however, face all but buried into Azriel. He didn’t seem to complain about her closeness and so she let her mildly intoxicated self take over the usual reservedness she displayed toward him. He’d guided her toward her bedchambers, clearly assuming she was in a more drunken state than she actually was, and watched as she collapsed into bed rather ungraciously. The sight had the ball of warmth in his chest growing even larger and he let his face relax with an easy smile when she bid him goodnight. He offered her the same as he shut her door and took himself away to bed where he too found sleep ready and waiting for him.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Nesta's Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter took a lot longer to get written and posted than planned so apologies for that! University work combined with internet problems last week meant I couldn't get this up when I wanted to but hopefully things are looking better now for more frequent updates! I hope you all like this new chapter and look forward to the next!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Several days came and went, all as uneventful as the previous. In that time, there had been a heavy aura clinging to the House with the knowledge that the clock was quickly ticking by before Nesta’s responsibilities to scry would be passed along to Elain. Idrial hoped Nesta would face her duty if only to prevent all hell from breaking loose once Amren or Rhys intervened. Briallyn would be a mere insect compared to Nesta’s wrath if they had Elain go through the scrying without Nesta’s permission—not that Idrial believed Elain should need her permission, of course. Elain was perfectly capable of doing it but Nesta didn’t exactly see it that way. Nor did Azriel, for that matter. If his comment at dinner the other night was anything to go by, he’d find the Trove himself before he let Elain subject herself to it.</p><p>Dinner that evening had been tense to say the least. Nesta hadn’t made an appearance and Cassian was far quieter than usual. When Idrial had asked if everything was okay, he’d brought up the attempt to scry that had been anything but successful. He had also mentioned that Nesta had been quick to retire to her room with no intention of trying again—at least not anytime soon. Azriel had remained quiet while Idrial nodded in solemn recognition. It made sense why Nesta would hate it and all the memories scrying no doubt brought up, but they needed this. Without her, the Trove might as well be handed over to Briallyn and her forces.</p><p>After dinner, Idrial kept mostly to herself. Something strange had settled over the House and she didn’t like the odd sense of foreboding that dwelled in the pit of her stomach. Like something was coming and she had no chance of stopping. Any attempts to rest or leisurely read under the faelight were all for nought; she could barely settle even as the sun had long set past the mountains, giving way to the pale glow of the moon and the twinkling of the midnight stars. She let out a sigh as she closed the book in her hands, placing it on the desk and rubbing at her temples. Her eyes closed as she sat there, taking deep breaths to try and convince her body to fall into its routine tiredness. As expected, the breathing exercises did not work so Idrial lifted herself from the seat and quietly paced down the hallway and out of the main entrance to the House, hoping the fresh air might offer some respite.</p><p>As she met with the night breeze, cool air filled her lungs. Idrial wrapped her arms around herself, not expecting the chill that settled under her skin. It wasn’t late enough in the year for such cool temperatures but Idrial thought little of it, releasing some warmth thanks to her elemental affinity. That same warmth soon turned to pure ice. Even her magic felt frozen inside her veins. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Idrial was on edge, silent and unmoving as her eyes tried to sense anything approaching the House until she heard the sound of Nesta screaming coming from inside.</p><p>Idrial darted back inside, headed straight for Nesta’s room. Cassian was already inside and Azriel stood not far behind, both staring in complete bewilderment and terror at Nesta. She was asleep in her bed, bathed in what looked like silver fire. Her screams were agonising as her fingers clung to the sheets. Idrial watched as Cassian tried to lunge for her, only to be held back by Azriel. The sound he let out was far from human but he knew not to try and break free from Azriel’s grasp, his Illyrian brother too clever and strong to let him leave. Nesta’s agony continued, her screams and her magic leaving the windows shattered. It was then that darkness filled the room and Rhys appeared before them, his magic meeting hers and smothering the fire that destroyed nothing but Nesta herself.</p><p>“Nesta! Nesta, this is a dream!” Rhys shouted, his voice muffled over the wind of his power consuming the room. Nesta’s power seemed to fight back, desperate for an escape and Cassian thrashed in Azriel’s arms. His own shouts were near frantic, almost begging for Rhys to stop smothering her, stop hurting her.</p><p>The sight before Idrial was beyond description. Never before had she seen such a fight for dominance in two Fae’s magic. The sheer magnitude of Nesta’s power was incredible. Frightening, but incredible. For a Fae to have a fire ability was nothing new or extraordinary, but that fire always ran hot, always burned. This fire was something entirely different. It was cold and unforgiving, running so deep it extinguished all warmth within her own magic.</p><p>“Wake up. It’s a dream. <em>Wake up</em>.” Rhys’ voice spoke again, though Nesta’s sleeping body did not yield.</p><p>“Let me go,” Cassian uttered, voice void of all emotion except fear for Nesta. “Az, let me go right now.” Azriel followed his command, arms falling to his side as he watched Cassian walk over to where Nesta’s ice cold silver fire fought with Rhys’ darkness. Somehow, his voice caused her magic to stutter, allowing Rhys to send a wave of his own over her once more, gradually washing away the flame until all evidence of the power Nesta had displayed was gone and her body relaxed back into a deep sleep. Silence consumed the room, no one daring to speak until Azriel simply asked, “What happened?”</p><p>Rhys slumped in a chair, his hands shaking. <em>Trembling.</em> Worry pulled at each of the Fae in the room for their High Lord. It wasn’t often they were all left clueless about how to settle or comfort him.</p><p>“Should we send for Feyre?” Cassian attempted to ask, only to be met with an astute “No.” Rhys’ eyes flared as he answered without hesitation. “She doesn’t come near here.”</p><p>“Was that…” Azriel started as he looked toward the bed where Nesta now slept peacefully. “That was Nesta’s true power? That silver fire?” “Only the surface of it,” Rhys whispered as he ran his still shaking hands down his tired face. <em>Shit. That fire was only the surface of Nesta’s power? Just what exactly did she take from the Cauldron? </em></p><p>“I went into her nightmare,” Rhys spoke again, head rising to look at Cassian. “Why didn’t you tell me you attempted a scrying today?”</p><p>“It didn’t work,” came Cassian’s answer, guilt tinging his voice for not having told Rhys or gone after Nesta to make sure she was okay.</p><p>“The scrying was a trip wire. For the memories. I caught that as I went in.” Rhys paused, as though he could barely stand talking about what he saw inside her. “She was dreaming of the Cauldron. Of…of when she went in. I saw it. Felt it. Everything that happened within the Cauldron. Saw her take its power with her teeth and claws and rage. And I saw…<em>felt</em>…what it took from her.” Rhys rubbed his face once more and met Cassian’s gaze before he continued. “Her trauma is—”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“I guessed, but it was different to <em>feel</em> it.” The agony that was etched on Rhysand’s face sent a chill down Idrial’s spine. Whatever he had witnessed had thoroughly horrified the High Lord—had shaken him beyond belief.</p><p>“What is her power?” Azriel asked, tentative with his words.</p><p>“Death,” whispered Rhys. “Pure death.” Idrial saw the fear that lay in his eyes as Rhys rose from his seat. The fear that struck his thoughts at the outcome should Nesta not gain control over her power, at what could transpire if she lost her hold on it anywhere but this isolated House.</p><p>“She seems to have settled again so I’ll trust you to keep an eye on her. Any sign that she might fall again and you call for me. Understood?” Cassian, Idrial and Azriel each gave a solemn nod, hoping that it wouldn’t be necessary. Rhys bade them all a good night, or at least as good a night as they could have after…all of that, before soaring into the sky through the broken window that had already begun to slowly piece itself back together. Heavy silence clouded each of them, the tension too thick to let them speak for a moment. Had that really only been the surface of Nesta’s power? What else was she hiding and controlling within herself and just how hard was it for her to keep it all inside? Idrial’s thoughts were spinning uncontrollably. She’d never read of a Fae with a power like Nesta’s in all the research and ancient tomes she’d scoured over the years. What exactly did the Cauldron do to her? And what did she do to it?</p><p>“You’re freezing.” Azriel’s voice and warm hand on Idrial’s arm pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up at the Illyrian, mild concern etched into the crease of his forehead. She barely even noticed the chill of her arms from the outside air nor the sensation of ice that had rushed through her at the surge of Nesta’s power. Her mind had been completely distracted by Nesta’s magic and what that might mean for them that nothing else mattered, including her own body.</p><p>“It’s fine. I was outside before Nesta…before her power... It’s nothing.” Idrial didn’t want to think about the stifling coldness that flooded her own magic. Didn’t want to let her mind get ahead of itself. No, she just wanted to get back into her bed and sleep. With the fireplace blazing and keeping her room so warm not even her magic could cool it. Azriel didn’t seem to believe that it was nothing, nor did he find her answer comforting. It was clear Idrial was shaken up about what she’d seen. Hell, they all were. But the way she wrapped herself in her arms so tightly and stood so still as though she had been frozen in place didn’t sit right with Azriel. And why had she been outside? It wasn’t like her to take a casual midnight stroll. Before he could protest in any way, Cassian spoke up. “You should get some rest. Both of you. I’ll watch over Nesta.” It hardly took any convincing for Idrial to agree and scurry back to her own room. Azriel watched as she hurried away, something tugging in his chest telling him to follow after her. He ignored it, uttering a “good night” to Cassian and taking himself off to his own bedchambers.</p><p>The following morning, Idrial found herself waking later than usual. The excitement of the previous night had left her exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. Though perhaps excitement was not the right word for it all. Terrifying seemed to suit better. To think Nesta had been keeping such an all-consuming power from everyone. A power that came with all these memories of the Cauldron that no doubt haunted her every move. Even the thought of it sent a chill down Idrial’s spine as she rose from her bed. Making a mental note to check on Nesta later, Idrial dressed herself with a new intent in mind—find out anything she could about Nesta’s power that might prove helpful to her learning how to control and wield it. Of course, there was a high possibility she wanted nothing to do with magic training or learning how to reach into that power but Idrial wanted her to know she was there for her in any way she needed.</p><p>There had been nothing of use in the House’s private library so Idrial had made her way down to the priestesses in the hopes of finding something remotely related to Nesta or the Cauldron’s magic. Clotho had been delighted at her appearance, the priestess offering a bright smile and passing a note with possible books that could help with her research. However, Idrial’s search had been mostly uneventful, most of the information of the Cauldron being things she already knew. There was certainly no records of someone being Made in the Cauldron and taking from its pool of power. Still, Idrial did not want to lose hope just yet.</p><p>Once she felt her eyes beginning to droop with tiredness, Idrial made to return the books to the nearby shelves and walked back up to the House. She hadn’t seen Nesta at all in the library during her usual shift time, no doubt due to a need to recover from the events of the previous night even if she had been unconscious for it all.</p><p>When she walked into the dining room, Nesta had just settled into her own seat, offering Idrial a glance. Idrial smiled tentatively, taking a seat opposite Nesta.</p><p>“How are you doing after…last night?” She didn’t know how much Nesta would want to talk about it and fully expected a cold response. The appreciative warmth in Nesta’s eyes took her by surprise.</p><p>“I’m…okay. I feel drained. Like, I’ve been awake for too long and spent the hours trekking up and down those gods-forsaken stairs.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised. You did well to even attempt scrying yesterday and what came after can’t have been easy to deal with.” Idrial didn’t want to tread too far, but Nesta didn’t look uncomfortable. She looked almost like this was lifting a heavy weight from her shoulders, as though talking about it was helping even in a small dose.</p><p>“That hasn’t happened before. I’ve had nightmares about the Cauldron but none felt as real as it did last night. But I don’t want it to stop me from trying again. I’ll face it if it means I can protect Elain from facing even a fraction of those memories.”</p><p>“She may not seem it, but I know Elain would be grateful to know just how far you’ll go to protect her.” Idrial hoped Nesta could feel her sincerity. The relationship between Nesta and her sisters was rocky and difficult, but deep down Nesta does care for them more than she admits. “Oh, I also did some work down in the library to help figure out your power. I know you didn’t exactly want to do any training, physical or otherwise, at first but I thought learning your magic might help in some way.”</p><p>Nesta looked dumbfounded at the statement. It wasn’t often she was lost for words. “Th-thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“But I wanted to. You’re my friend, Nesta and if there’s a way for me to help you then I will. If you feel up for scrying again then I’ll be there if you want me.”</p><p>Before Nesta could stutter her thanks again, Cassian walked in. Although limped in seemed the more operative term. His eye and jaw were bruised and there was a cut splitting his lip. The male looked truly awful.</p><p>“What happened?” Nesta demanded, fierce eyes whirling on his tender body. Cassian near collapsed not a chair and as answered, “I sparred with Rhys.”</p><p>“You look like a tenderised piece of meat.” Idrial chuckled at her comment. This wasn’t the first time she had seen the aftermath of a good fight between Cassian and Rhys. In fact she was rather accustomed to them blowing off some steam by throwing a few good punches. And, clearly, Rhys had landed more than a few decent blows to Cassian’s otherwise pretty face.</p><p>“You should see him,” laughed Cassian while Nesta stared incredulously.</p><p>“Why did you fight him?”</p><p>“Because how else would they release some of that tension other than beat each other sore?” Idrial teased, smirking as Cassian jokingly sneered.</p><p>“Rhys needed to get it out of his system. Despite that smooth exterior my brother presents to the world, he needs to let loose every now and then. And yes, Idrial, beating each other up is the perfect way to achieve that.”</p><p>Nesta muttered under her breath, “Your idea of letting loose and mine appear to be very different.” Idrial and Cassian both laughed, the latter taking a sip from the bowl of soup that had appeared in front of him.</p><p>“It wasn’t for fun. Just to relieve some tension.”</p><p>Idrial glanced up at Cassian’s grave face as Nesta inquired as to why Rhys needed to relieve some tension. The Illyrian set down his spoon before he spoke, voice filled with concern and worry. “The baby has wings.” Idrial could almost feel her heart sink into her stomach. She wasn’t listening as Nesta asked how they could tell nor was she listening as Cassian explained the dangers this posed. If Feyre’s baby had wings, it’d make the birth a lot more complicated. Sure, having a baby with wings would be glorious for Rhys, and Cassian and Azriel too. Teaching them how to fly would bring such fond happiness that one could almost forget just how fatal childbirth could be for Feyre. She was in her usual High Fae form and under strict rules not to shift just in case it posed a threat to the child and so her body wasn’t suited for an Illyrian baby with its wings.</p><p>Idrial swallowed, dread leaving her stomach feeling heavy and robbing her of her appetite. “How is Feyre handling it?”</p><p>“She doesn’t know the full scope of it. But all of us who have grown up here know what it means for a High Fae female to bear a baby with wings. And she isn’t to know the full scope of it either. Rhys doesn’t want her finding out, at least not yet,” Cassian explained, sighing as he rubbed at his temple with sore fingers.</p><p>“And Rhys needed to fight out his fear,” Nesta added, voice quiet and solemn.</p><p>“Yes. Along with the guilt and pain.”</p><p>“Is there perhaps another court with a healer who might know more than Madja? Somewhere with winged people or anyone who might be able to help?” Idrial offered, mind casting to Miryam, a half-Fae who had given birth to children with her husband Drakon, who was a Seraphim with wings unlike her.</p><p>“Rhys is heading to Cretea tomorrow to speak with Miryam and Drakon. And Mor is making discrete inquiries at the Fae courts on the continent.” Cassian ran his hand through his hair, sighing exasperatedly as he did so. “If there is a way to save Feyre from a death sentence, Rhys will find it. He will stop at nothing until he figures out a way to spare her.” A wave of silence washed over the three Fae, all taking in the weight of the baby and how their lives could change so drastically should things not work out. Idrial didn’t want to think about just how much things could take a turn for the worse but it was unavoidable. Feyre and her baby’s future were an enigma that needed to be deciphered as soon as possible, if only to save Rhysand and the entirety of the Night Court from the terrible pain that would befall them should either of them not survive.</p><p>“I’ll try scrying again.” Nesta’s voice was low and quiet as she broke the silence. Idrial looked at her, an unsure expression on her face. Of course she was happy to hear Nesta felt ready to try again but so soon after her last attempt?</p><p>It seemed Cassian had the same thoughts as he started, “After last night—”</p><p>Nesta ignored and interrupted Cassian before he could ask that she consider waiting before making a second attempt. “I need to regain my strength after yesterday. We’ll do it tomorrow night.”</p><p>“I want Rhys and Amren there. And Az.”</p><p>“Fine. And I want Idrial there too,” Nesta added, looking at her with the smallest hint of a smile on her face.</p><p>Idrial nodded, “Of course.” She managed to clear the last of the soup in her own bowl, pushing her chair back from the table. “I’ll be in my room if either of you need me.” As Idrial walked into the hallway, fully intent on running a hot bath filled with lavender scented bubbles, she overheard Cassian’s voice drop on octave lower. “Why haven’t you sought me out?” Idrial didn’t linger long enough to hear Nesta’s response, pace picking up as she moved. There were few things she wished to listen to less than whatever conversation was about to transpire, nor the…activities that might follow. Instead, she only let her mind think of the awaiting bath and the deep sleep she would get before Nesta’s second scrying tomorrow evening.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Middle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First off, thank you for 1k hits! When I started writing this I didn't really expect much of a response but seeing people read and (hopefully) enjoy it has been so lovely! I initially started out writing this because of a random scene idea I had with Azriel and posted it just for my own enjoyment but I'm so glad there are people out there who like what I've written! I've got a lot more plans for later down the line so I hope you'll all stick around to read more of Azriel and Idrial's story!</p><p>Anyways, Chapter Eight is here! I debated extending it to include more of the events in the Middle but so much goes down that I've decided it's probably best for Chapter Nine. Which I'll get started on writing very soon! As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air was thick and the tension heavy in the expanse of Rhys’ study. Idrial watched as Cassian and Nesta strode in, the latter hesitant with her steps. All eyes fell on her, assessing and weighing the potential outcome for this afternoon. No one had spoken a word about Nesta’s outburst of power in the time Idrial and Azriel had arrived at the river house but Idrial could sense that Feyre and Amren knew, especially given Amren’s scrutinising gaze. Nesta approached the table before them, a map of the faerie lands adorning it with a bowl of stones and bones sat beside the map. Cassian remained close at Nesta’s side, looking as though it was taking all of his self-control to not reach for her hand and offer a comforting squeeze to reassure her that he was there. Before Cassian could succumb to the temptation, Nesta cleared her throat as she focused on the map, avoiding all of their stares.</p><p>“Let’s be quick about this.”</p><p>Azriel asked from between Idrial and Amren, “When you attempted it two days ago, you felt nothing?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Nesta replied, fingers hovering over the bowl. “My mind circled itself.”</p><p>“What did you think of?” It was Amren to ask this time.</p><p>Nesta remained calm and her expression appeared aloof as she answered, “The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried.”</p><p>“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times,” Feyre offered, a hand resting on the slight swell of her belly. It was only very slight, so small a change in fact that you would only notice it if you were looking, and yet the weight of that protective hand had Idrial’s heart twisting. But there were more pressing matters at hand than the worry of Feyre’s pregnancy.</p><p>Nesta reached for the stones and bones, clenching them tightly in her hands as her eyes closed. Idrial watched as she held her fist over the map, complete silence consuming the room. No one moved a muscle or dared to sigh a heavy breath. Even Cassian remained still, only allowing his wing to shift behind Nesta every so slightly to help ground her and remind her of his presence. They could do nothing but watch Nesta’s expressionless face, no signs or signals that the scrying was successful for several minutes.</p><p>What felt like an icy breeze fluttered at the back of Idrial’s neck and she froze, heart beating erratically with worry. <em>Wasn’t this the same feeling from two nights ago? When Nesta’s power had near engulfed her?</em> Her rising anxiety was quelled, however, by Azriel’s fingertips brushing against the back of her hand. She could feel his shadows curling towards her as though they too could sense her worrisome emotions. Idrial glanced up at him but Azriel was still watching Nesta closely. She averted her eyes and focused back on the scrying, a dull pain in her chest knowing that he likely had done it out of instinct to avoid her emotions interfering with Nesta’s scrying.</p><p>“Where is she wandering to?” Amren uttered. Cassian’s hand was on Nesta’s and Rhys moved closer to Feyre in a protective manner.</p><p>“This didn’t happen that time during the war with Hybern,” Azriel noted, voice low so as not to cause any distraction. In that moment, Nesta’s eyelids fluttered with the sight of something new. Her brows bunched every so slightly and her grips on the stones and bones tightened, her already pale knuckles whitening.</p><p>“If you see the Mask, girl, then now would be the time to let go,” Amren ordered, her voice level but wary. Nesta didn’t make any movement to open her hand, eyes still twitching as she searched.</p><p>“Nesta, open your hand,” Idrial spoke, her concern rising along with the others in the room. If she didn’t pull out of it soon, who knows what might happen.</p><p>“She never lowered her shields. Her shields are…” Feyre started, a frantic look in her eye as she watched Nesta’s scrying continue on.</p><p>“A fortress of solid iron,” Rhys murmured, finishing his mate’s sentence. Neither he nor Feyre could get past Nesta’s mental shields, her mind guarded with something that no faerie magic could break through, as Amren had commented. Nesta, however, showed no sign of the fear that had consumed her two nights prior.</p><p>“Give her time,” Cassian muttered, hand still wrapped around hers.</p><p>“I don’t like this. Wherever she is, it feels deadly,” Feyre spoke. They all watched on, noting how Nesta’s hands tightened in Cassian’s.</p><p>“Get her out, Rhys. Get her out now.”</p><p>Rhys answered softly, his voice tinged with guilt for having no way to pull Nesta out of her own mind. “I can’t. I—The doors to her mind were open the other night. They’re completely shut now.”</p><p>“She doesn’t want it seeing her. Or us,” Feyre added. “She’s locked it out, but also locked herself in.”</p><p>Cassian spoke Nesta’s name into her ear, pleading, willing her to come back to them. Her breathing shifted, the coldness of her fingers deepening. Cassian’s voice was urgent now. When Nesta did open her eyes, that same silver fire that had raged in her bed now glittered in her eyes. There was nothing Fae within the blankness of her stare, still wrapped up in the scrying. Rhys ushered Feyre behind him, his wings adding a shield to protect his mate and child though she pushed past and back to his side. Idrial barely breathed as she watched Nesta turn to look at Cassian, that cold fire still raging.</p><p>“Hello, Nes.” How Cassian was able to sound so calm as he stroked a thumb over her hand, Idrial didn’t know. “Let go of the stones and bones. Let go of them and then you and I can play.” Idrial felt herself tense as Cassian leaned in to kiss Nesta, brushing his lips against hers. As he deepened the kiss, Nesta appeared to react, slowly returning to herself. He whispered to let go of the stones and bones again, voice so quiet Idrial almost couldn’t hear him even in the otherwise silent room. There was a definitive clunk as Nesta dropped the stones and bones, her arm reaching for Cassian’s shoulder as she leaned into his kiss before realising where they were and what exactly had just transpired. When Nesta looked upon the others, eyes lingering on Idrial, the icy fire was now extinguished, leaving behind the usual blue-grey tone of her irises.</p><p>“Interesting,” Amren commented, arms folded across her chest with an intrigued smirk stretching across her face. Feyre and Rhys seemed less amused, the former with her mouth agape while her mate gripped onto her hand tightly. Idrial could understand why. She too had felt the temperature of the room rise as Cassian had been able to pull Nesta back from the scry. Caution was etched all over the High Lord’s face and Idrial could sense Azriel’s wariness from beside her too.</p><p>Idrial’s eyes fell on the spot where Nesta had dropped the stones and bones. They were sitting right on the Bog of Oorid.</p><p>“The Mask is in a bog?” Feyre questioned, confusion filtering in the frown on her face.</p><p>“Oorid was once a sacred place,” Amren began to explain. “Warriors were laid to rest in its night-black waters. But Oorid changed to a place of darkness—don’t give me that look, Rhysand, you know what I mean—a long time ago. Filled with such evil that no one will venture there, and only the worst of the faeries are drawn to it. The say the water there flows to Under the Mountain, and the creatures who live in the bog have long used its underground waterways to travel through the Middle, even into the mountains of the surrounding courts.”</p><p>“Is there a way to be more specific? Do we have a detailed map of the Middle?” Feyre asked, turning to her mate.</p><p>Rhys shook his head in response. “It’s forbidden to map the Middle beyond vague landmarks. The Mountain, the woods, the bog…All can be seen from land and air. But its secrets, those discovered on foot—those are forbidden.”</p><p>“By whom?” Idrial listened as Rhysand began to explain of old High Lords and how the Middle was a place teeming with wild, unfiltered magic. To map it out would be to deny respect of the Middle as its own entity, provoking all kinds of ancient mysteries.</p><p>“The Middle is where the Weaver of the Wood dwelled,” Feyre spoke up again. “If you go to the bog, you’ll need to be armed.”</p><p>“We will. We’ll both be armed to the teeth,” Cassian declared. Nesta did not respond, though everyone looked toward her. The elephant in the room that was her power went unaddressed, no one—not even Amren—daring to speak up about that silver fire they had all bore witness to.</p><p>“We go tomorrow,” Nesta spoke, voice unshaking even after all that she had likely seen.</p><p>“But, you’ll need time to prepare—” Feyre started.</p><p>“We go tomorrow. We’ll leave after breakfast. Me, Cassian, Azriel,” Nesta said, ignoring Feyre’s protest as she continued on. “…and Idrial.” Nesta looked up and stared into Idrial’s eyes with hope glistening in her own.</p><p>“No—” Azriel tried to argue.</p><p>“Yes, I’ll go with you,” Idrial spoke at the same time, a wary smile on her face. The thought of going to the Middle was anything but pleasant but she’d face it if that’s what Nesta asked of her. Plus it gave her a reason to leave the House and Velaris for something of far higher importance than she was usually able to do.</p><p>“It will be dangerous and you haven’t kept up with any consistent training,” Azriel tried to reason.</p><p>“I can defend myself perfectly well enough should the situation call for it. Yesterday I told Nesta that if there is a way for me to help then I will be there, no questions asked. She has requested I go with you and I fully intend to do so. I may not be as strong or as skilled as others in this room but I won’t let myself be relegated to the House when I know I’m capable of more than that.”</p><p>Azriel appeared dumbfounded at her outburst, not entirely realising he had suggested she wasn’t strong enough. He knew Idrial was more than capable of protecting herself if need be, but something in him itched to keep her somewhere safe and away from danger. He muttered an apology, shadows dancing at his shoulders as he stepped back ever so slightly away from her, putting further distance between himself and everyone else in the room.</p><p>“Well, with that settled, I suggest you all get some rest for tomorrow. You don’t have an easy task ahead of you but I have complete faith the four of you will return successful and in one piece,” Rhys spoke, lending some warmth to shatter the tension that had shifted between Idrial and Azriel.</p><p>Despite her words of determination, Idrial felt anything but courageous as she laid her head down to rest in her bed that night. Since the scrying earlier, her mind had been moving a mile a minute trying to process exactly what she had signed up for. She didn’t regret agreeing to go to the Middle, but she couldn’t exactly deny that she was nervous—scared even for what they might encounter. If they were lucky, they would find nothing awaiting them and the Mask would be found with little interruption from unsavoury characters. Something told her that they would not be quite as lucky as she hoped. Still, despite any worries or fears she might have had, Idrial didn’t let that stop her from practicing her stances in her room before soaking herself in the bath.</p><p>The sword she’d had forged last year for the war with Hybern was still in its same place in her home in Velaris so before returning to the House of Wind, she’d asked Azriel to take a detour into the city to retrieve it. While there, he’d been mostly silent as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her movements.</p><p>“You know you didn’t have to agree to go just because of something you said to Nesta,” Azriel had said, breaking his silence. Idrial had just sighed, pausing her movements to look back at him.</p><p>“Correct. I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” When he didn’t show any sign of speaking up again, Idrial continued on. “Look, I appreciate that you’re just looking out for me but I can’t help but wonder if you just think I’m going to be some kind of burden on you all tomorrow. I know I haven’t kept up with training maybe as much as I should have but I can still fight. It’s not like I’ve forgotten everything about using a sword.”</p><p>“I don’t think you’re a burden. I never have. It’s just that I don’t want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger.”</p><p>“Well considering this is all for the Mask, I would disagree that this danger is unnecessary.”</p><p>“You know what I mean. The only reason Nesta is coming is because she’s the only one of us who can track it down. Otherwise I’m sure Cassian would have her staying at the House.”</p><p>“I frankly couldn’t care less what Cassian would want. Nesta is coming tomorrow because she is strong and a worthy asset. I am also going because I’m also a useful asset. This has nothing to do with what you or Cassian want. Neither she nor I are anyone’s property to be ordered around. We are both capable of making decisions for ourselves.”</p><p>“Wait, I—I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t able.” Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m simply worried for you, that’s all.” Idrial tried to ignore the rush of her heartbeat at his last comment, eyes widening. She quickly turned away so as to hide the warmth that flooded her cheeks, returning to her previous intentions of finding the sword. Once she retrieved it from the shelf she’d kept it stored, Idrial summoned all of her restraint and willed the heat of her cheeks to extinguish itself as she strode toward Azriel and brushed past him, headed for the front door of her home. Azriel hesitated, lingering in the doorway before she called his name, asking if he was coming or not. He followed after her, debating whether he should say anything more or keep quiet, opting for the latter as he took her up into his arms and soared into the skies once she’d locked the door behind them.</p><p>Morning soon came and Idrial had somehow managed to find sleep relatively easily despite the nerves that bunched in her stomach. Azriel hadn’t spoken to her since the previous afternoon, not even speaking to her once they arrived back at the House. It didn’t seem out of anger, but more out of a desire to give her space. He must have thought he’d offended her deeply. Granted, his choice of words had not been the greatest, but she didn’t resent him for it. Idrial knew he’d only spoken from a place of concern. Still, there was no point in being concerned about that as she layered herself up with what protective gear she had, knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it from any of them if she wasn’t fully prepared for their venture out to the Middle.</p><p>It wasn’t until they were all gathered in the foyer of the river house that Idrial felt her breakfast settle in her stomach. She hadn’t eaten much, nerves overtaking her appetite but what she had managed to eat felt heavy. She knew that it was just due to anticipation but it didn’t make her feel any more at ease.</p><p>“I don’t like this,” Feyre proclaimed as she approached Nesta. “You haven’t had enough training.”</p><p>Cassian chuckled as he replied, “Relax. She has two Illyrian warriors and Idrial guarding her. What could go wrong?”</p><p>“Don’t answer that,” Rhys said, tone flat as though he could sense exactly how Feyre might answer Cassian’s rhetorical question. He then turned his focus toward where Nesta stood beside Idrial. “If you don’t want to go—”</p><p>“You need me. The big is large enough that you won’t be able to find the Mask without my…gifts. So I am going. We both are,” Nesta retorted, her hand clasped in Idrial’s in solidarity. The two had shared a conversation over breakfast about the males’ protectiveness over them both, Idrial lamenting of Azriel’s comments in her Velaris home. Nesta had simply deemed him another ‘Fae bastard’ before happily continuing on with her meal. Her words, while few and far between, were enough to soothe Idrial and remind her that she had a friend who understood exactly how she felt and shared the same sentiments to not allow anyone to undermine either of them.</p><p>Azriel stepped forward, extending his hands to Cassian, Nesta and Idrial ready to teleport away. Before they could leave, Feyre stepped forward again. “The Middle is like nothing you have experience before, Nesta. Don’t let your guard down.” She nodded in response before Azriel’s shadows swept around them, casting them all far, far away from Velaris.</p><p>As the shadows cleared, the heavy air hit each of them. There was no gentle breeze breathing life into the place, just thick, dead air that echoed the muted appearance of the earth. There was no colour, no life here.</p><p>“Look at this hellhole,” Cassian breathed, eyes cast upon Oorid. Hellhole was the right word to describe this place. Every one of Idrial’s senses barked to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. This wasn’t a place anyone wanted to linger for long, if at all; the sooner they found that Mask and left, the better. Even Azriel’s usually stoic demeanour was broken, discomfort etched into his features.</p><p>“Not one insect. Not one bird,” he mused, eyes looking around, assessing the scenery. Not that there was all that much to assess. The trees were all greyed and without leaves, branches looking moments away from snapping and casting debris onto the cracked, dry earth. Not even a sound could be heard aside from their own movements.</p><p>“Who would bury their dead here?” Nesta asked no one in particular.</p><p>“They didn’t put them in the earth. These were water burials.” Cassian answered.</p><p>“I’d rather be burned to ashes and cast to the wind than be left here.”</p><p>“Noted.”</p><p>“This is an evil place,” Azriel whispered. For the first time perhaps in all the time she had known him, Idrial saw fear shining in Azriel’s hazel eyes. She swallowed, feeling that same fear pulsating through her entire body.</p><p>“Agreed,” she managed to utter. “So let’s get that Mask and get away from here before my breakfast decides to make a reappearance.”</p><p>Taking a few tentative steps, Nesta looked toward Cassian as she asked, “What manner of creature dwells here?” As Cassian began to describe the kinds of vile things that could be found lingering in the Middle, Azriel softly nudged an elbow in Idrial’s side.</p><p>“How are you doing?” He asked, voice low and quiet but tinged with concern.</p><p>“About as good as anyone could be in a place like this. But I’m fine. I was joking about the breakfast comment. Mostly,” Idrial replied. “Although I really wouldn’t complain if we did find that Mask and leave in time for lunch.”</p><p>Azriel let out a low chuckle. “Can’t say I disagree with you there. Come on, let’s get going.” The two strode over to Nesta and Cassian, the former of which looked particularly displeased at whatever the latter had told her.</p><p>“What if the Mask is in the water?” Nesta queried, gesturing toward the vast outstretch of bog that lay before them.</p><p>“Then Az and I will draw straws like the tough warriors we are and the loser goes in.” Azriel and Idrial rolled their eyes in unison, laughing at the light-hearted comment as they took to the skies, Cassian and Nesta following closely behind.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Battles and Injuries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And Chapter Nine is here! This is definitely the longest one so far and contains a scene that I've been looking forward to writing since before I even started writing the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for the continued support!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being up in the air felt just as discomforting as being on the ground. Usually flying meant the wind would tousle your hair, a cool breeze filling your lungs and leaving you feeling refreshed with a clear mind. This was anything but clear. Every breath Idrial took in felt heavy, as though the air was clouded with some invisible force that made each inhale and exhale consume far more energy than usual. Taking in a deep breath was near impossible and any attempts to do so in order to clear the foggy feel of her lungs, made Idrial cough as Azriel carried her through the air. Even the sound of their wings was muffled by Oorid’s distinct lack of life or ecosystem. How anything could survive here was beyond any of them. Even the most terrible of creatures or beings must suffer in a place like this. Surely nothing could actually thrive here?</p><p>The landscape was clearly not thriving as they flew over barren land, eyes falling upon the black water of the bog, reflecting each of their bodies like a mirror made of pure obsidian. There were small inlets of land, any traces of grass completely dry and dead and thorn bushes tangling like some warped plant decorating a villain’s lair from a children’s story.</p><p>“It’s awful here,” Idrial murmured under her breath, warning signs flaring in her body that this was not a place for the living.</p><p>“Trust me when I say we won’t linger for longer than necessary,” Azriel replied, his skin uncharacteristically drained of colour. His usually tanned face seemed peaky, as though he felt ill to be in such a place. It was unsettling to see him look so uncomfortable; the Shadowsinger was usually an expert at keeping his face a blank slate to hide any signs of discomfort or displeasure.</p><p>As they continued to fly, following after Cassian and Nesta, Idrial noticed Cassian glancing back before descending into a cloud of mist. Azriel dipped behind them, keeping a safe distance and an eye out for any trees that may be concealed by the thick fog. Idrial had barely been able to hear Cassian and Nesta’s voices thanks to the restrictive air, the sound unable to travel as far as it could in the clear air of Velaris. All she’d picked up on where sparse words about the magic that dwelled here and the terrible powers that waited to be unleashed. Their muffled conversation was little bother. If anything pressing needed to be communicated, their shouts could be carried through the air. However, when Azriel felt an ash bolt pierce his wing, his grunt of pain nor Idrial’s frantic words could be heard as they tumbled to the ground.</p><p>“Shit, are you okay? Can you stand?” The pair had landed in a clearing that bore no stray trees or thorned bushes, minimising any further injuries. Idrial had gone unscathed thanks to Azriel wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her closely into his chest. He’d somehow managed to keep her above him as they tumbled so she hadn’t been crushed by his heavy body, even with the pain shooting through his wing.</p><p>“I’ll be fine. Can you see anything or anyone?” He replied through gritted teeth. It was clear he was concealing the true extent of his pain so as not to scare Idrial too much, but she was far too perceptive and knew him too well to believe him.</p><p>“The mist is too heavy but I think we’re okay at least for now. Come on, let’s get you up.” Idrial outstretched her hand from where she knelt beside Azriel. He clutched onto her hand, using her for support as he sat upright and got to his feet.</p><p>“We’ll wait here for Cassian to find us. I can’t fly with my wing like this.” Idrial didn’t reply and only nodded as her eyes worriedly flickered to the bolt in his wing. Ever the perceptive individual, Azriel spoke up once more. “Stop fretting. I won’t keel over just because of a little pain.” His hand ruffled in her hair as he spoke, a small smirk stretching across his face. Idrial pushed his hand away, scowling.</p><p>As she opened her mouth to talk, Idrial was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps and shouts coming from the mist. Within an instant, Azriel had his sword drawn and was in a defensive stance, ready to attack whatever was coming for them. She followed suit, drawing the sword attached to her belt. It had been a while since she’d last had to use one in any serious manner and she would have been lying if she said she didn’t fear for her life or Azriel’s in that moment. A fraction of that fear disappeared once the group of soldiers came into view. Fighting them would be far easier than any of the vile beings that dwelled in the depths of Oorid.</p><p>Swords clashed and Idrial found her body being fuelled by adrenaline. She wasn’t entirely aware of the movements she made or the power she sent out, pure instinct keeping her alert and on her toes. There was no room for pausing or hesitating, even as Cassian thrashed down upon the soldiers, eyes burning with rage as his Siphons glared. Idrial barely registered the glowing light from each of Cassian and Azriel’s Siphons, that immense power doing nothing to shake her or distract her from keeping herself alive.</p><p>A sharp pain struck her side, pulling her attention from the body of a soldier she had killed. Idrial whirled upon the source, another Fae soldier whose eyes appeared foggy—as though the colour had been diluted by some cloudy substance. There was no time to think upon what that could mean as she sent a small blast of air and knocking him back to buy her some time to correct her footing and strike her sword at his neck. Blood poured from the gash as he collapsed to his knees, gasping for air until he eventually fell. Dead.</p><p>Idrial turned back to see the commotion had completely silenced. All that was left of their attackers were two soldiers on their knees. In the heat of the moment, Idrial hadn’t registered the insignias they bore on their armour but could now clearly recognise it as Eris’ markings. It was too early to know whether Eris had been the one to send them or whether it had been his father or perhaps someone even more sinister.</p><p>Azriel’s breaths were heavy, partial exhaustion and partial pain from the ash arrow that had now been pulled from his wing, blood slowly cascading.</p><p>“Bind them,” Cassian ordered, watching as Azriel summoned his Siphon’s power to chain the two soldiers’ wrists, ankles, and mouths.</p><p>“Something is wrong with them,” Azriel commented as the two soldiers simply glared with nothing but violence and anger ablaze in their eyes.</p><p>“Their eyes looked cloudy, like there’s something polluting them,” Idrial added, keeping her breathing steady as she felt the wound on her side sting. The injury wouldn’t be fatal and her Fae magic should keep it from getting infected though it still didn’t make it hurt any less. There would be time to address it later when they were back in Velaris.</p><p>“They smell like they haven’t had a bath in weeks,” Cassian murmured as he scrunched his nose in disgust. Azriel and Idrial sniffed too, both grimacing at the stench that came from the bodies around them.</p><p>“Do you think they are Eris’ missing soldiers? He said they’d been acting strange before they vanished. I’d certainly consider this strange behaviour,” Azriel mused as he surveyed the bodies and blood that littered the floor.</p><p>“I don’t know,” answered Cassian, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. You both all right?”</p><p>“Fine.” Azriel’s voice was clipped but he remained certain that he would be fine for now. Idrial nodded too, forcing herself to keep her hand from applying pressure to the wound at her side. If they knew she was hurt they’d want to stay here to check up on her and the longer they stayed here, the higher their chances were of more soldiers finding them—or anything else for that matter. Plus, there was the matter of Nesta who was very clearly not with them.</p><p>Azriel continued on, accepting her nod as a good enough sign that she was okay and otherwise unscathed. “We need to get out of here. There might be more.” In that moment, it seemed Cassian had remembered Nesta, his eyes widening as he shot upwards, not bothering to wait and see if Azriel was able to fly just yet. The Shadowsinger rolled his eyes, reaching out his hand for Idrial to take. Noting her hesitation, he said, “I can carry you. Don’t worry. The wound from the arrow is already healing.”</p><p>“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” She asked, taking his hand with no small amount of trepidation.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>. Now stop stressing you’re like a worried mother,” he teased, lifting her and rising into the sky. Idrial winced at the pulse of pain as he gripped onto her waist, hoping the sound didn’t carry and he hadn’t heard it. She couldn’t help but notice that his movements were far less fluid than usual. His wings moved with that same strength as always, but she could tell it was hard for him especially given the fact that they bobbed in the air with every few flaps of his wings. It wasn’t enough that she thought they might tumble to the ground, but it also wasn’t exactly calming.</p><p>“I’m only worried because I care,” she replied back, refusing to meet his eye as she watched Cassian ahead of them. He’d hung back a little after his sudden rush of movement, checking that Azriel was able to follow behind with Idrial in his arms.</p><p>They followed until Cassian dropped to the ground, shouts of Nesta’s name emanating from his throat. He must have left her here, believing she’d be safe before coming after Idrial and Azriel. Once the two landed, they were able to trace Nesta’s scent up to the water where it completely disappeared. <em>Oh gods. Had she gone into the bog? Or had she been dragged in by something? </em></p><p>“I don’t see her,” Azriel’s voice came from just behind Idrial. There was no movement in the water, nothing but that inky blackness sitting there completely still but laced with all kinds of threat.</p><p>“Nesta!” Cassian roared, the sound’s echo dying fairly quickly as Oorid suffocated it. Idrial could hear the rawness of his throat as he continued to scream her name, wading into the water.</p><p>“Cassian, be careful—”</p><p>“Let him be. You won’t be able to stop him and we don’t need both of you at risk in there,” Azriel interrupted, his hand holding onto her wrist. She barely registered that he didn’t release his grasp on her as Idrial scanned the water for any sign of Nesta or some other indication that she was okay.</p><p>“I don’t see anything. We need Rhys,” Azriel urged, stepping closer so that his feet were now wading in the water. His hand was still on Idrial’s wrist as though he wanted—needed to be certain that she was still there and unharmed. Idrial could hear just how scared he sounded as he spoke, something that was rare in the Shadowsinger’s voice.</p><p>“He’s not answering,” Cassian called back as he waded deeper, the water now up to his chest as his arms thrashed for any hint of something physical in the bog.</p><p>“Wait, look over there,” Idrial spoke, pointing at a spot in the water that was rippling, a golden light glowing beneath the surface. Azriel cursed under his breath, hand finally releasing Idrial as he lurched forward for Cassian, Siphons flaring blue. As they all stared with bated breath, spears broke the surface of the bog. More spears continued to rise, then helmets and skulls beneath them, inky water droplets rolling off them.</p><p>“Mother save us,” Azriel whispered, completely frozen in place as the dead rose from Oorid’s depths. The three watched in stunned silence as Nesta also emerged, a golden mask upon her face. Her hair looked wild, the water pulling it out of the braid, and in her hand the head of a kelpie with its face frozen in a pained scream. Her eyes were filled with that same silver fire that had burned in her only days prior.</p><p>“Holy gods,” Azriel breathed. Cassian whispered Nesta’s name, so quiet Idrial wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t seen his mouth move. Nesta released the kelpie, the water swallowing it and removing all evidence of its existence. Her cold power rippled, none of them willing or able to stand against it. Idrial watched as Cassian and Azriel both bowed to that power.</p><p>Nesta reached for the gold mask upon her face, peeling it away from her face. The dead around her collapsed, motionless, and disappeared beneath the surface once more. Nesta, too, sank and Cassian lunged for her, grabbing her just as she went under the water. Her body was limp as he carried her toward the edge of the water where Azriel and Idrial waited.</p><p>Once they were safely away from the bog, Cassian laid Nesta down, leaning her weak body against what remained of a thick tree stump. Scratches littered around her mouth and jaw; she looked wrecked. Nesta blinked, her eyes no longer blazing with fire as she clutched the mask to her chest and recalled what had just transpired. Cassian wrapped her in his arms as she fell unconscious once more, offering a sweet reprieve from Mother knows what she had seen.</p><p>“We should head back to Velaris before anything else comes after us,” Azriel offered, already taking Idrial’s hand to prepare to winnow with the same poorly concealed pained look on his face.</p><p>Instead of returning to the House of Wind, their destination was beneath the Court of Nightmares. Nesta had been taken to a bedroom in the palace above the mountain where she had remained unconscious still, sleeping off the exhaustion from exerting herself so much while Cassian, Azriel and Idrial were accompanied by Feyre, Rhys and Amren. The two Autumn Court soldiers had been thrown into a cell, the blood of their wounds dripping between the grates in the floor into a pit of beasts, awoken by the scent of a potential meal. Azriel leaned against the wall by the singular door, Truth-Teller bloodied and in his hand with Cassian close beside him. Idrial stood at his other side, Feyre joining her as they all watched on as Rhys and Amren approached the two males.</p><p>“Are you feeling more inclined to explain yourselves?” Rhys asked, his hands in his pockets as he looked ever the jovial, yet menacing, High Lord. The Autumn Court soldiers still bore the same vacant expression, their minds not entirely present or cognisant of their surroundings and actions.</p><p>“They must be under some sort of an enchantment,” Amren observed as she circled them both as though she were a viper waiting to strike her helpless prey. “They only drive seems to be to harm without reason or context.”</p><p>“Why did you attack members of my court in the Bog of Oorid?” Rhys questioned once more, his voice exhibiting that familiar calmness that many had heard in years past before finding themselves victim to his wrath. The males made no attempt to speak, staring toward them all with visceral hatred.</p><p>“They’re like rabid dogs, lost to sanity,” Feyre mused.</p><p>“They fought like them too,” Cassian chimed in. “No intelligence—just a desire to kill.”</p><p>“If they’re under a spell from Briallyn or Koschei, is it right to harm them like this?” Feyre asked, her voice echoing along the walls. It didn’t take long for Rhys to disagree.</p><p>Amren then turned to her, “The fog around their minds and the fact that they endured Azriel’s ministrations without showing an understanding of anything beyond basic pain at least confirms our suspicions.” Idrial had looked away when Azriel had performed his ‘ministrations’ on them, as Amren called them. What he had done was far worst. In fact, torture was the more apt label for it. She understood they needed whatever information they could garner, but Idrial couldn’t help but agree with Feyre that perhaps it was not entirely right to harm them like this.</p><p>“If that’s how you justify it, then fine.” Her voice was tinged with a coldness that Idrial duly noted. Feyre then shifted her gaze to Rhys. “We need to ask Helion to visit. Not for the—you know, but to break the spell upon them.” Her mate agreed, eyes meeting hers as they shifted into silent conversation.</p><p>Moments after their private words ceased, Rhys declared, “They stay here, under guard. I’ll contact Helion immediately.”</p><p>“And Eris?” came Cassian’s voice. “When do we tell him we found his soldiers? Or what we did to most of them?” Gods, Idrial hadn’t even thought about how they’d deal with Eris after all this. Any hopes that he’d take this lightly were entirely foolish.</p><p>“You acted in self-defence. As far as I’m concerned, whoever was controlling the soldiers is to blame, not you,” Feyre reasoned.</p><p>“There was no choice other than to fight them. If we’d had any other options we’d have obviously done that,” Idrial noted, earning a warm smile from Feyre.</p><p>Amren nodded, adding, “We’ll tell Eris once we verify everything. There’s still a possibility that he’s somehow behind this or aware of their bizarre condition.”</p><p>“While I do agree, these two males have families who are surely worried about them. We should be as quick as possible.” Nods of agreement came from each of the court members before they all left the males in that room and walked out of the dungeons of the Hewn City and up to the pillars of the beautiful palace Rhys owned above it.</p><p>Rhys headed for the room they had quickly stored the Mask beneath a black cloth, all surprised when they saw Nesta sitting at the table and staring at it.</p><p>“How did you get in here?” He asked, pure shock tinting his words. <em>Surely Rhysand must have warded this room to prevent anyone from entering?</em> Idrial thought to herself.</p><p>“The door was open.” Nesta’s reply was quiet, her voice lacking its usual energy.</p><p>“The Mask opened the door for you?” Amren’s voice was demanding, almost as though she couldn’t believe it had worked against Rhys’ wards.</p><p>“I found myself beckoned here once I awoke.” Idrial noticed the way Nesta’s eyes scanned her, Azriel, and Cassian though she definitely lingered on Cassian for far longer, assessing if he was injured in any way. She many never vocalise her concerns, but it was all-too-clear how worried she was.</p><p>It was Feyre’s turn to question as she asked, “Does it speak to you?”</p><p>Before Nesta could answer, Amren spoke up once more this time with anger tinting her voice. “Only a desperate fool would don that Mask. You’re lucky to have been able to pry it from your face. Most of those who have worn it could never remove it. In order to sever it, they had to be beheaded. It’s the cost of the power: you can raise an army of the dead to conquer the world, but you can never be free of the Mask.”</p><p>Nesta remained steadfast as she faced her. “I wished it to let go, and it did.”</p><p>“Like calls to like. Others could not free themselves because the Mask did not recognise their power. The Mask rode them, not the other way around. Only one Made from the same dark source can wear the Mast and not be rule by it,” Rhysand offered, his explanation seeming an accurate analysis of Nesta’s ability to wield it.</p><p>“So Queen Briallyn could use it,” Azriel said. “Perhaps that is why the Autumn Court soldiers were in Oorid: she can’t risk setting foot in Prythian and so found a unit to go in for her.” A wave of silence washed over the room, Azriel’s words sinking in deep with a likely explanation behind the soldiers’ presence.</p><p>Nesta was the one to break the silence. “It should be destroyed.”</p><p>“Well I’m afraid that’s not possible. Perhaps if the Cauldron had been truly destroyed, the Mask might have been weakened enough for the High Lords and Feyre to join their power and do it,” Amren said.</p><p>“If the Cauldron had been destroyed, then life would have ceased to exist.” Feyre’s voice rang with the harsh reality.</p><p>“So the Mask remains. It can only be dealt with. Not eliminated.” Amren’s words, while true, were not exactly helpful as well as rather redundant. What they needed to figure out now was how, exactly, they should deal with it. It seemed the usual wards would not be adequate considering Nesta’s ability to stroll into the room with little effort at all.</p><p>Idrial listened as Nesta suggested they dump it in the sea, while Azriel warned that doing so would lead to others potentially finding it and that to keep it safe under their jurisdiction would be for the better. They deliberated how to lock away the Mask in a manner that would be Nesta-proof—or rather, Cauldron Made-proof. Feyre suggested that it might succeed if Nesta were in fact the one to cast the spells to create the wards, repeating that “like calls to like.”</p><p>“Tell me how to do the spells, and I’ll try. I cannot guarantee that I’ll be successful but I’ll do anything to keep that thing locked away.”</p><p>“When Helion comes, I’ll have him show you. He knows spells for warding that even I don’t,” Rhys promised, his voice sounding softer and gentler than it usually did when he spoke to his mate’s eldest sister.</p><p>Cassian chuckled as he chimed in, “Considering that Nesta brushed off Helion’s smouldering advances during the war, he might not be so inclined to help her.”</p><p>“He’ll help,” Rhys assured. “If only for another shot at her.” Nesta rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest. Idrial knew she wanted to be there to see Helion attempt, and fail, to charm Nesta.</p><p>“We should get Madja to tend to your wounds,” Feyre suggested as she took a step closer to Nesta. The suggestion made Idrial tense. Until that moment, she’d forgotten the injury that still ached at her side. The pain had dulled significantly, no longer as sharp or pressing as it had been but she knew the blood would have dried to her clothes and prying it off her skin would be neither enjoyable nor painless. She barely heard Amren chide that Nesta smelt like a swamp. In fact, she wasn’t listening at all to Cassian ask about the kelpie, or Nesta’s recollection of how it had ensnared her, nor did she hear Rhys ask to hear it speak to her through her mind. Her eyes stared vacantly at the floor, body unmoving as her thoughts lingered only on the wound at her side. If she went to Madja, the others would know of her injury and would reprimand her for hiding it. If she didn’t, she would have to hope and pray that she had the materials to cleanse and bind the wound in her bathroom, either in the House of Wind or her own townhome. Though if she were to return to her townhome, that’d no doubt raise questions too. If she wanted to keep the others from noticing her wound, she’d have to simply grin and bear it until she could get a moment alone in her room.</p><p>Luckily, that moment alone came sooner than expected. Not long after the ordeal with the Mask and the wards, they had made the decision to stay in the moonstone palace for the night rather than return to the House given the fact they were all tired from fighting or facing kelpies and golden Masks. Idrial had found a room for herself with its private bathing chambers to give her the peace she needed. She couldn’t explain exactly why she wanted to keep her injury a secret outside of the fact that she didn’t want to cause any worry when there was already so much going on without anything else adding on to it. Besides, it’s not like it was fatal so was there really such a need to fuss over it? Given the fact that Feyre had remarked about Nesta’s wounds, Idrial knew she, and the others, would have fretted far more over her and she didn’t want to be the focus of all the attention when she didn’t need to be.</p><p>Idrial set down her weapons and pieces of leather armour, ridding herself of the heavy clothing and leaving her in a pair of thick trousers and a loose white shirt she’d donned beneath a tunic. She surveyed her side, noting the dark red blood that had dried to the shirt; there was more than she’d expected. Gently, Idrial pried the shirt away from her skin, wincing at the lance of pain that struck her. She hissed as she lifted the shirt to survey her side in the mirror that stood in the corner of the room. It was messy. The gash wasn’t particularly dangerous to her health, nor was it big enough to cause significant damage, but that didn’t make it much nicer to look at. She definitely needed to get it cleaned before any kind of injection set in and spread, maybe apply a salve if she could find one.</p><p>Looking in the mirror, Idrial noticed a figure standing at the door. Azriel. <em>No, why is he here?</em> Idrial turned, hurriedly pulling her shirt back down to hide her wound. It seemed she had been too late and Azriel had seen it, given the flash of concern on his face.</p><p>“What happened? Are you hurt?” He quietly demanded.</p><p>“It’s nothing. I’m fine, Azriel,” Idrial replied, frantic as he stalked over to her, eyes dark and cold, teeming with anger despite the worry that threaded his brows together. Azriel reached for her wrist, pulling her close to his chest so that she had no choice but to hold eye contact with him.</p><p>“I’m not going to ask you again. What. Happened.”</p><p>Idrial sighed, closing her eyes as she gave in. He wouldn’t leave her until she offered an honest answer. “In the fight with Eris’ men, towards the end I got stabbed by one of them. I didn’t say anything because of your wing, and then there was Nesta and it just wasn’t worth worrying anyone. I’m hardly anyone that holds much priority when it comes to pressing concerns.”</p><p>Azriel flinched at her words, annoyed that he hadn’t noticed, that she hadn’t said anything until now, that he hadn’t been able to protect her from harm. And that last comment about how she didn’t believe she wasn’t worthy of being worried about had hurt just as hard as the ash arrow in his wing, if not more. Azriel ever so gently lifted her shirt, his hands ghosting on the skin of her stomach as he surveyed the wound and uttered under his breath that he knew something had happened to her. It seemed he'd noticed her wincing under his touch earlier.</p><p>Idrial looked away from the softness in his gaze, feeling her cheeks warm as she felt his callused fingers brushing delicately against her side, careful not to cause any additional pain.</p><p>“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispered, voice low and far calmer than it had been before.</p><p>Idrial followed Azriel into the bathing chambers, guiding her to perch on the side of the bathtub. He had retrieved a clean rag that he dampened beneath the warm water of the taps, kneeling before her. Azriel lifted her shirt once more and Idrial’s hands ghosted against his, nudging him to let her hold the shirt while he worked. He offered a soft smile as he ever so gently began to clean the blood that had dried around the wound before moving to press the rag against the gash that had begun to scab over.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t have kept this to yourself, you know. You’re lucky it wasn’t serious.”</p><p>“I know. Like I said, I didn’t want to concern anyone. There’s more important things to worry about—”</p><p>“No. There’s not,” Azriel cut her off, not continuing his thoughts.</p><p>“Azriel, you cannot honestly believe that Nesta or the Mask are less important than a little gash I got in a fight. You even had an arrow in your wing, for goodness’ sake!”</p><p>“Az.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You never call me Az, even when everyone else does. Why?” Idrial was glad she was sitting down, else her knees would have definitely buckled at the look in Azriel’s eyes as he looked up at her, pausing his ministrations at her side. She couldn’t place exactly what that expression meant. Didn’t want to consider anything that might play into her many dreams and wandering thoughts of him.</p><p>“I don’t know.” Her voice was quiet, barely even a whisper as she replied. “I suppose I just like Azriel.”</p><p>“Do you mean the name, or me?” Azriel smirked, chuckling at her widened eyes and pink cheeks. “I’m only teasing. Still, I don’t like the way you talk about yourself sometimes. You dismiss your injuries because someone has worse ones. You act as though you aren’t worth worrying about because there are other existing concerns. I couldn’t care less if a hundred Illyrian soldiers were on the brink of death. I would still worry for you more even if the only injury you bore was a singular scratch on your face.”</p><p>Idrial was speechless. What should she even say to that? She didn’t have to think of what to say as Azriel finished cleaning her injury, reaching for a healing salve he’d pulled seemingly out of nowhere. When he saw her furrowed brows, he chuckled. “The perks of having shadows at your beck and call.” Azriel gently applied the salve and Idrial hissed at the slight sting.</p><p>“Sorry. Not much to be done about that. I’m being as gentle as I can be.”</p><p>“It’s fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle, at least,” Idrial replied, focusing on her breathing as she waited for him to finish.</p><p>“There, all done.” Azriel rose from his position, offering a hand to help her up. “You should change that shirt and get some rest. I can bring up some food later so you’ve got enough energy to heal. I might bring some bandages to wrap that up for you too.”</p><p>“Thank you. For the help. And for what you said. It was very kind of you.” The smile he sent her was warm, and it made her heart feel as though it was glowing beneath her chest.</p><p>“Rest up, Idrial. I’ll be back later.” She watched as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him while she focused on not falling to the ground. The sincerity of his words and that gentle smile were far more devastating than any blade or magic power could ever be. Idrial managed to stumble her way to the bed, sitting down with little grace as she stared blankly ahead. She needed sleep. A lot of it. Anything to distract from the racing thoughts that coursed through her mind. She could deal with Azriel’s return to her room later, after she had slept off some of the exhaustion and nerves that flooded through her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Return to the House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And with this chapter we're in the double digits! I'm surprised I've kept up this long with writing without reaching a block at all lol. I'm not sure how exactly I feel about this one, but I hope you all enjoy it at least!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Idrial awoke the next morning in that foreign bedroom in the moonstone palace of the Hewn City, she felt miles better. Azriel had returned to her room the previous night, fulfilling his promise of a hot meal and bandages for her side. Much to her surprise, he hadn’t brought Madja along to check for a possible infection, apparently deeming his own first-aid abilities decent enough to make sure she was fine. As Idrial had assumed, the injury was not fatal nor did it seem likely that infection would spread so Azriel had wrapped it up for some support and made sure she ate the warm bowl of soup he’d brought with him. It hadn’t taken Idrial long to fall back asleep and by the time morning came it was like she’d never been injured. Thanks to her advanced Fae healing, the deep cut would be no more like a scratched line by lunch and, if she were lucky, would have completely disappeared come night-time. After she’d carefully maneuverered herself out of bed, Idrial changed into a fresh shirt and leggings she’d found in the set of drawers opposite her bed and collected what few things she’d had with her from the day before.</p><p>As she moved swiftly about the room, a knock sounded at the door. Idrial flinched at the surprise, her spare hand reaching for her chest as she let out a somewhat disgruntled, “Come in.” The door swung open to reveal Azriel’s towering frame, his wings tucked in as he peered in from the doorway.</p><p>“Should you really be out of bed and this active after yesterday?” He commented, his tone not entirely serious though there was some degree of concern hidden beneath the slight smile on his face.</p><p>“Says the one who had an arrow through his wing. I barely feel anything, it’s fine.”</p><p>“That’s what you said last night while you were bleeding out, if I remember correctly.”</p><p>Idrial scowled at the Illyrian. “Well, you don’t remember correctly. But I can remember you fussing over a wound that was hardly dangerous.”</p><p>Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, quirking an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “Hardly dangerous? You and I definitely have differing accounts of that gash on your side.” He nodded toward the now hidden spot where her healing wound was still bandaged.</p><p>Idrial waved a hand in dismissal as she spoke. “And it turned out to be nothing major in the end, didn’t it? So everything is fine and not worth worrying over.” She turned away from him, signalling that she no longer wished to talk about last night. While she may have mostly recovered from the nasty slash of Eris’ soldier, she hadn’t recovered from even half of what Azriel had said to her. Even in her dreams, she seemed to be plagued by the gentle lilt of his deep voice as he carefully fixed her up.</p><p>
  <em>I couldn’t care less if a hundred Illyrian soldiers were on the brink of death. I would still worry for you more even if the only injury your bore was a singular scratch on your face. </em>
</p><p>All night, and well into the morning, Azriel had cursed himself for his honesty. Not just to Idrial but also to himself. He had barely been thinking from the moment he saw her in the mirror with that bleeding gash below her ribs up until the second he closed the door to her room for the night. Lately his mind had been so tangled up and confusing that the breath of fresh air brought a clarity he hadn’t felt in a long time. And that same clarity had him professing his deep-set worry for a female he knew he cared for but something about the raw sincerity that spilled from him felt different. It wasn’t like that brotherly way he cared for Rhys and Cassian nor was it like the close bond he’d formed with Feyre. It wasn’t even like the difficult feelings he’d once possessed for Mor, or the newfound comfort he sought in Elain. Idrial was an entirely new and different conundrum; a complex enigma he hadn’t realised that sat before him. He couldn’t even comprehend her stunned reaction after he’d asked why she never called him by his shortened name, nor the teasing comment he’d made after she admitted she liked it. He’d practically flirted with her, the rosy glow of her cheeks blooming into a deepened blush. Azriel had to avert his eyes and distract himself by returning to her injury just to stop himself from staring at her. He barely knew what had come over him—didn’t want to know or understand it, even. Never in the time he’d known her had Idrial even hint that she may feel something deeper than friendship for him. Gods, he didn’t even know what he felt. All he knew was that sleep would most definitely evade him all night and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.</p><p>Once Idrial had finished gathering her things, she and Azriel silently made their way down to the entranceway where the others waited on them. Cassian and Nesta had already departed so as not to miss the morning training session with the priestesses though judging by the knowing smirks, there may have also been another, more pressing, matter that had influenced their decision to leave early. By the time Idrial and Azriel had arrived back at the House of Wind, they’d still only exchanged a small handful of words, though their silence was anything but comfortable. Something about their shared secret encounter had lit a fuse that was slowly but surely edging closer and closer to setting off the metaphorical bomb that they now carried between them.</p><p>Neither had lingered in the other’s presence for too long, Azriel heading straight for the training pit as Idrial all but ran to her room. Internally, she justified her need to visit her bedchambers by telling herself that she needed to store her sword away there until she got a chance to return to her Velaris townhouse. The thought of her home lingered in the back of Idrial’s mind. Returning the other day hadn’t necessarily made her wish to stay there alone again but the idea was growing more and more tempting each day that passed since. She didn’t want to actively avoid Azriel, but she definitely felt a little too exposed around him. As though she may have let her guard down a little too low and revealed some hidden truth to him that she wasn’t ready for him to see—a hidden truth that she did not believe he would be particularly receptive too. He hadn’t spoken of the previous night since she’d effectively shut down the conversation earlier and while she was grateful for it, there was a part of her itching to pry a little further and find out if perhaps her feelings were not quite as one-sided as she assumed them to be. <em>No. That couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?</em> Opting to ignore the realm of possibility tucked away in that one question, Idrial took herself off to the library for some much-needed peace and quiet from the noise of her thoughts. Some peace that the priestesses would easily bring the moment she stepped between the shelves of books from ages past and present.</p><p>It hadn’t felt like much time had passed when Nesta appeared by her side, a large stack of books in hand and looking uncharacteristically excited. Idrial eyed the stack of books, skim-reading the titles out of curiosity until she fell upon the manuscript sitting stop the pile.</p><p>“What’s that top book there? I didn’t realise they had unbound manuscripts on the shelves here.”</p><p>Nesta looked at Idrial in mild confusion until she realised to which book she referred to. “Oh, this isn’t one for the shelves. Gwyn has been assisting Merrill with some research on the Valkyries and she managed to make some copies for Emerie and I to look through.”</p><p>“The Valkyries? I don’t think I’ve heard of them,” Idrial mused, finding herself growing more and more intrigued by the lure of historical reading.</p><p>“They’re an old all-female group of warriors. The last of them perished during the war five hundred years ago and we’ve gotten interested after Gwyn mentioned them,” Nesta explained as she resumed her task of returning read library books to their appropriate shelves, the manuscript now sitting atop a stool beside Idrial.</p><p>“I’m surprised I’ve never heard of them. Are you going to incorporate this into your training with Cassian at all?” Idrial didn’t miss the ever-so-slight hesitation of Nesta’s arm at the mention of Cassian.</p><p>“I haven’t told him, but we’re starting practice on something called mind-stilling later so it’ll probably be of use with his training as well.” Idrial hummed a response. She wasn’t one to pry too far into Nesta’s more personal reasons to impress Cassian, nor was she willing to suggest that part of this Valkyrie training could be to show off a little to Cassian that she was more independent than he perhaps thought. Regardless, the Valkyrie training at least sounded useful and Idrial made a mental note to ask Clotho if there was any more research besides Merrill’s current studies. Merrill was infamous for her scathing attitude and intimidating aura. Idrial had yet to be on the receiving end of her bad temper, but she did not wish to tempt fate by asking her directly to read some of her research. Knowing Merrill, or at least the whispers she had heard of her, asking to read an unfinished manuscript would be almost as awful as verbally berating her right in front of her face. Not an outcome Idrial wished to cause on purpose.</p><p>Still, the Valkyries seemed to have sparked something in Nesta though it wasn’t just them that had brought about this new side to Nesta. While her newfound enthusiasm was at least partially inspired by the Valkyries, her friendship with Gwyn and Emerie had also lured out a side of Nesta that Idrial was not overly familiar with, but definitely enjoyed the presence of. She had not spoken a great deal with Emerie, an Illyrian female whom Nesta had met up in Windhaven, though she knew Gwyn from her various visits to the library. Nesta spoke about them both often whenever she relayed details of their training sessions together or brought up small moments they’d shared when passing each other in the library or on her visits with Cassian up to Windhaven. Piece by piece, Nesta was slowly starting to break down her shell. She had by no means fully unpacked or recovered from all that had happened to her, but this newfound friendship provided a small haven of support that she could lean on when she needed to. Idrial hoped she too could be that for Nesta, even in some small way.</p><p>As the following days passed, the onslaught of autumn rain bringing about colder temperatures by the hour, Idrial found herself cosying up beside the fireplace of the private library in the House more and more. She had continued to try and find books that might lead to an answer regarding Nesta’s power but there didn’t seem to be any recorded memory of anyone who’d stolen power from the Cauldron before. Granted, this was likely because no one else <em>had</em> been Made and possessed enough willpower or drive to reach into its depths and demand it give over even a fraction of its magic. Figuring out how to hone that power was an uphill climb that Nesta would have to venture with whatever guidance the others could pass from their own lessons in magic. Although it seemed she knew enough to at least keep the power at bay and in control for the most part. And there had been her wielding of the Mask in Oorid. She had managed to call upon something within her to find the Mask even when she was being attacked by the kelpie; that spoke volumes to the gravity of her magic that she was able to wield using sheer instinct and a desire to survive. Still, Idrial knew just how liberating it felt to learn how to reach further into the depths of one’s magic, shaping it into tools for survival or battle from the shapeless well of untamed power.</p><p>Closing the notebook she’d been scribing notes and passages into, Idrial stretched her arms above her head, leaning back into the plush armchair. She let out a serene sigh, pausing for a moment with her eyes closed before moving her notebook to the small, round oak table next to the chair and heaving herself up onto her feet. The room swelled with a welcome heat thanks to the lit fireplace and it sunk deep beneath Idrial’s skin, trying to tempt her into taking a late morning nap. She’d been awake for only a few hours now and yet she already felt ready to sink back into sleep. Instead of giving in, Idrial pulled open the wooden door and meandered down the hallway toward the dining room. After all, wouldn’t eating a small snack be the perfect way to stave off her tiredness? A steaming cup of tea would do rather nicely, too.</p><p>As she stepped into the room, Idrial glanced out of the window that overlooked Velaris. The view from the House was breathtaking even under the late morning sun. She stood in silence, admiring the expanse of homes and business sprawled across the city, all looking rather miniature from her high vantage point. Where she stood also had a perfect view of the top of the steps where a red-headed figure had just winnowed in. Lucien. He was possibly one of the last Fae she expected to see visiting the House. Even if he was an emissary to the Night Court, Idrial didn’t see a whole lot of him outside of the odd official meeting. She walked toward the entranceway of the House, arms instinctively wrapping around herself despite the warmth of her magic that she allowed to flow through her, combatting the brisk chill of the autumn breeze.</p><p>“Lucien, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she greeted, offering him an amicable smile.</p><p>“Me neither. Are you staying here too, then?” The older Fae had now reached the top step, his russet hair blowing in the wind as he returned the greeting.</p><p>“I came up here a few weeks ago. Mainly to keep Nesta company but the House has its benefits too.”</p><p>“And how is Feyre’s eldest sister? Last I heard she was drinking and sleeping her way through near every bar in Velaris.” Lucien chuckled lightly to himself while Idrial had to hide a grimace.</p><p>“She’s improving. A lot, actually. Although I suppose how she’s getting on will depend on who you ask. She’s actually out in the training pit with Cassian. I think the priestesses will have left by now.”</p><p>Lucien hummed, musing her response. “I might just have to go and see for myself. Feyre did suggest I go and see Nesta but I’m sure she’ll have something to say about my being there. Cassian too.”</p><p>Idrial smiled. “As long as you don’t stir trouble, I don’t see why either of them would have an issue.” Lucien didn’t reply, only humming once more and offering a slight nod before bidding her goodbye as he made in the direction of the training pit. As he was leaving, Azriel came from the pit, returning from one of his first sessions helping Cassian train the priestesses, Nesta, and Emerie. He gave Lucien a courteous nod, though his expression didn’t not falter from its usual stoic appearance.</p><p>“How was training?” Idrial asked, shifting her weight between feet as Azriel slowly stepped closer to her.</p><p>“Good. Cass has taught them well. I don’t think I’ve seen so many priestesses together in one place—and definitely not outside like that,” he commented, tucking in his wings as he entered the House to escape the chill.</p><p>“It’s a big thing that Nesta’s got them doing. She should be proud to have thought up the idea.”</p><p>“It’s definitely something. Can’t say I’ll be picking a fight with Nesta anytime soon though. Not if she gets much better at wielding a sword.” Azriel had now taken a seatt in the sitting room, his wings outstretched and head tipped back. Idrial had sidled in after him, taking a seat on the second sofa. Although she’d had little choice on where to sit, given the fact that all other spots on Azriel’s sofa would have her sitting within breathing distance of his wings. They may have been close, but certainly not <em>that</em> close. Even if she had longed for otherwise.</p><p>“What? Scared she’ll knock you on your ass?”</p><p>Azriel scoffed. “No. I can handle myself against her perfectly fine. But I’m still not stupid enough to put that to the test.”</p><p>“So, in other words, the answer is yes you are scared she’d be able to knock you on your ass.” He rolled his eyes, sending Idrial a withering glance while she just laughed. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Plenty of females are just as strong, if not stronger than even you, dear Azriel.”</p><p>“Yeah? And are you suggesting that you’re one of them?” Azriel now leant forward, his head resting in his hand as he held eye contact with Idrial. She shifted in her seat, trying not to fidget too much so that he might call her bluff and challenge her. In this case, she was most definitely all bark and no bite.</p><p>“I don’t recall ever saying that,” she replied, all but fluttering her eyelashes in a faux-innocent manner. “But if that is how you wish to interpret it, be my guest.” Azriel raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to offer a snarky comment but the two were interrupted by the appearance of Nesta.</p><p>“I don’t know what that irritating male thinks he’s doing here but I can't stand it,” she huffed under her breath, not bothering to stop and join Idrial and Azriel as she practically stormed toward the hallway and to her room.</p><p>“Lucien’s arrival went down well then,” Idrial commented, not sounding the least bit surprised by Nesta’s reaction. The two had clashed since their early meetings and ever since she and Elain had been Made and discovered that Lucien was Elain’s mate, Nesta had saved her iciest glares just for him. And she didn’t bother to try and be the slightest bit subtle about it either.</p><p>“Clearly,” came Azriel’s quiet response. He’d leaned back into the sofa again, his expression falling back into its usual neutrality; the shift in his demeanour almost reflected that of a candle’s flame being extinguished. One moment it was glowing softly and the next it has been snuffed out and all evidence of its previous light disappeared in an instant. “Oh, and just so you’re aware,” he started once more, standing up from his seat. “Helion will be arriving to the Hewn City tomorrow afternoon. Rhys and Feyre plan to tell him about the baby. Rhys said you’re welcome to be there if you wish.” With that, Azriel left without another word. Idrial held her gaze at the empty doorway he’d left through, sensing something off about him. She couldn’t place her finger precisely on what had changed, though it would continue to dance in her mind for the remainder of the day.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Day Off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter took a little longer to get written and posted thanks to some rather rough family news and essay season at uni, but it is here! Thank you all for continuing to read this work of mine and I hope you all enjoy! I'm going to try and get on top of the weekly updates but we'll see how that goes with all my essays and things going on lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Afternoon had fallen on Velaris and Idrial was strolling through the city alone, taking in every sound, scent and scene that surrounded her. Helion was due to arrive at the Hewn City this afternoon but Idrial had opted not to join the others in greeting him. She didn’t have a personal issue with the High Lord, in fact she found him rather pleasant—the male carried himself with no small degree of charm either. In reality, Idrial simply wanted a break. A day off from reading and researching. A day off from worrying over Briallyn or Nesta’s powers. While she wouldn’t trade her life in Velaris or the Night Court for even the finest gems or greatest power, Idrial often found herself craving the comfort of doing nothing—of simply ambling through crowded streets with no particular end goal in sight. Earlier, she’d asked Cassian to fly her down to Velaris after his usual morning training session, telling him she needed to pick up some things from her townhome. While not entirely true, it wasn’t a complete lie either. She did intend to visit her private home and ensure everything was in order, perhaps pick up a book or two from her collection that she was particularly missing. Her path to get there, however, was by no means the quickest. Instead, Idrial let herself roam throughout the city, enjoying the ambience in her lone state. She didn’t mind that she wouldn’t be there to hear the latest updates on Briallyn or the Trove; Cassian or Azriel would no doubt relay anything particularly important later anyway.</p><p>Idrial still had another two hours before she was due to meet Cassian at the bottom of the ten-thousand steps to fly back to the House. Inhaling a deep breath of cool Autumn air, she headed for her favourite little corner hidden away in the city. Tucked away down a quiet street was a bakery with no small amount of delectable goods. It had been a good long while since Idrial’s last visit given the fact she’d been staying up in the mountains with no desire or intention to traverse down the steps—or trek back up them for that matter. So, she’d had to forfeit her usual weekly visits but now had the perfect opportunity to sample any new delights the owner had cooked up. Of course, she could always ask the House for some baked treats but it just wouldn’t be the same. Eating at the House of Wind, while convenient, didn’t come with the cosy atmosphere that accompanied the hidden gems of Velaris.</p><p>She took one step into the welcoming warmth of the bakery, the most pleasant smell flooding her senses and reminding her stomach that it required sustenance. Idrial had purposefully eaten less than usual at lunch just so she could fully enjoy some baked treats without feeling too bloated that walking back through the city would be too uncomfortable. Plus, flying after over-indulging never ended well.</p><p>“Ah, Idrial! I’ve missed seeing that face,” the bakery owner greeted, an all-consuming smile gracing her face as she welcomed Idrial.</p><p>“And I’ve missed yours, Flora. Your baking skills, too,” Idrial replied, offering her own smile in return as she took up a seat at the counter behind which Flora stood with an open notebook upon it, details of orders and ingredients adorning the pages.</p><p>“We both know the reason you visit so often,” Flora replied, winking as the pair grinned at one another. Flora had been one of Idrial’s first friends in Velaris outside of the Inner Circle. She’d been walking through the city, trying to get accustomed to the new environment after Mor had taken her on a general tour of the place when she came across the bakery and met Flora. She had been bursting with excitement at seeing a new face and ushered Idrial to take a seat and sample whatever she liked, encouraging her to stay as long as she wanted. What had started out as a quick stroll through the city turned into hours of conversation and the most delicious cake Idrial had perhaps ever tasted. That day she’d also met Flora’s mate, Selene, a much quieter Fae than Flora but just as kind and warm. Idrial adored them both for the companionship they offered and liked that she had met them through her own accord. Of course she loved the Inner Circle and the friendship she’d found there, but she had grown close to them through Mor bringing her to the Night Court and therefore got to know them by association. Flora and Selene, however, she’d met and bonded with not because of her connection to Mor or the Inner Circle, but through shared interests and a simple desire for company.</p><p>Much like her first meeting with Flora, time seemed to evade Idrial and before she knew it, the time to find Cassian was soon approaching. As she bid her goodbyes to Flora and made her way back into the bustle of Velaris, Idrial felt a weight lift from her shoulders. While she couldn’t go into every minute detail of the Inner Circle’s concerns and activities, Idrial had been able to confide in Flora and get at least some of her thoughts and feelings off of her chest. Flora had been the first person she’d told about her feelings for Azriel—the only other person being Selene. Although being the hopeless romantic that Flora was, her advice to embrace Azriel and tell him everything had been a suggestion that Idrial quickly brushed aside. She never gave up, though, managing to bring up the Shadowsinger at any given moment in an attempt to push Idrial in a certain direction, even if it did earn her a scathing look from Selene who shared Idrial’s sentiments; it was glaringly obvious which of the two had initiated any and all amorous exchanges early on in their relationship. Still, this visit to the quiet bakery had cleared Idrial’s mind and eased the tension she hadn’t been aware was sitting under her skin.</p><p>When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Cassian was waiting with a smug look on his face. “And here she comes, late with no look of remorse at all,” he teased, dodging the hand she raised to playfully swat at him.</p><p>“Oh how my heart aches for you, Cassian, having to wait an few extra minutes.”</p><p>“What were you even doing anyway? I can’t imagine visiting home takes so long.” Cassian had now lifted Idrial and taken flight, the cold wind brushing their skin as they rose higher and higher.</p><p>“Believe it or not, I actually have friends. You might want to try and find some yourself.”</p><p>“You realise I could just drop you, right?” Cassian responded, his voice laden with deadpan sarcasm.</p><p>“You’d never, the sadness of losing me would be too immense. How could you ever go on without me?” Idrial laughed at the way he rolled his eyes, knowing this was just their way of showing friendly love to one another. “How did the meeting with Helion go, anyway?”</p><p>“About as well as you’d expect. Eris’ soldiers are under the enchantment of the Crown that Briallyn has in her possession. Nesta sealed away the Mask with the spell Helion taught her and Rhys wants her to join me in visiting Eris to inform him of his soldiers, at least what’s left of them. Oh, and Azriel’s pissy because Feyre and Rhys won’t let him go to the human lands anymore.”</p><p>“Because of Briallyn?” The pair had now reached the House of Wind and were stood outside, the wind whipping at their hair before they moved to head into the warmth of the House.</p><p>“Yes. It’s too risky to send any of us so close to her with the Crown in her possession, even if he can hide in his shadows.” Idrial’s mouth tightened into a thin line on her face. Azriel no doubt believed in his abilities and had probably not had Rhys and Feyre pull rank on him like this before, stopping him from doing what he believed was best. But there was no way they could risk Briallyn taking control of him. The terror she could unleash if she had unbridled access to his mind and body was near unbearable.</p><p>“And so now he’s sulking about it?”</p><p>Cassian nodded. “Just try not to push his buttons too much.”</p><p>“I think you’re the one that needs to listen to your own advice, Cassian. I’m practically a saint in comparison,” Idrial commented, squealing as Cassian lunged to tackle her. She managed to evade him for a short moment, but was soon caught thanks to his far superior athleticism. The pair laughed as they fought, Cassian barely putting in a fraction of his strength while Idrial pushed back with all her might to no avail. He had an unfair advantage due to his size and those damned wings stopping her from darting out of his grasp. Their playful bout was soon cut short when the sound of Azriel clearing his throat came from the doorway. Cassian and Idrial shared a look before agreeing to a truce, though it was evident which of the two had been winning.</p><p>“That better be a sign it’s time to eat. I’m starving,” Cassian groaned, arms outstretched above his head. Idrial took the opportunity to poke his stomach and dash into the dining room, past Azriel who had not spoken a word. She tried to ignore the icy look on his face and the coldness of the shadows dancing around him. Usually, they enticed her—felt like something odd yet familiar. But now, his entire demeanour had shifted. Was he really that bothered by Feyre and Rhysand’s command to stay away from Briallyn? Cassian had sent a rather charming nickname after Idrial as she darted off, knowing the insult would be taken in jest as he had meant it and offered Azriel a pat on the shoulder accompanied by a sympathetic smile before also following after Idrial to the table. Azriel, too, joined them but looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else than in their company; even in one of his brooding moods, this seemed a little out of character for him.</p><p>Dinner passed by with an odd, awkward tension. Little conversation was shared, with most of it between her and Cassian while Azriel remained otherwise silent save for a few clipped words of agreement every now and then. Azriel had left for his bedchambers as soon as he’d swallowed the final bite of his meal, quietly bidding Cassian and Idrial goodnight before trudging off. The remaining pair shared a glance, neither wanting to comment on his attitude given the fact he’d no doubt hear and dive deeper into his mood. Cassian had then gotten up from his own seat to check up on Nesta, though Idrial suspected what he actually meant by that and retired to her own room shortly after he left. Sleep came for her quickly, the light patter of Autumnal rain against the window lulling her into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.</p><p>The following day, Idrial had arisen from bed to an empty House, the others all well into their usual training practices, and went about her day as normal. She took up a seat in the private library and got to working as she always did, finding herself revitalised and motivated after her day off from her usual duties and obligations. She’d heard the sounds of Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta about the house, the latter two leaving for the Spring Court sometime mid-afternoon while Azriel stayed behind, following orders from Feyre and Rhys. She hadn’t seen much of him all day, spending all of her time wrapped up in her work. That was, until he knocked on the door to the library. Idrial called for him to come up, smiling warmly as she returned her attention to her work. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see or talk to him, but rather she felt a little apprehensive after his odd mood from the night before. He seemed somewhat more cheerful now but Idrial wasn’t going to be the one to test that.</p><p>“Any chance you’re reading up on magic swords and weapons?” He asked, taking a seat at an armchair, leaning forward and staring intently into the fireplace. Idrial paused her ministrations, looking up at him as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.</p><p>“Magic swords? No. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“Nesta created some. Three, to be precise.” Azriel’s voice was low, his tone completely solemn and lacking all potential that he could be merely joking.</p><p>“But how? There haven’t been any magic swords Made in centuries—no, <em>thousands</em> of years.”</p><p>Azriel straightened in his seat, dragging a hand down his face before answering, “Apparently when Cassian took Nesta to a blacksmith’s a few days past, she aided in forging three weapons. She somehow managed to infuse her own magic into the blades and the blacksmith dumped them at Rhys and Feyre’s feet, shouting something about them being cursed.”</p><p>“Shit. Does she know?”</p><p>“No. And if it were up to half the Inner Circle, she wouldn’t ever know.”</p><p>Idrial shut the book in her grasp, placing it on the table with more force than intended. “Surely not telling her would be far worse. What if she accidentally does it again or ends up imbuing something even more powerful?”</p><p>“I agree with you, she should know. But we agreed to cast a vote. It’s up to Feyre now whether she’s told or not,” Azriel explained, sighing as he fixed his gaze on a random spot on the ceiling, thoughts racing with all kinds of outcomes for the weapons, Nesta’s reaction, their entire <em>future</em>. “Either way I’m sure she’ll find out one way or another.”</p><p>“And if she finds out after it’s been decided <em>not</em> to tell her then who knows what havoc she’ll wreak. And for good reason too. I’d tell her myself but I know Amren will have my head if I do. Still, Feyre won’t keep this from her. I know she won’t.”</p><p>“Let’s just hope for all our sakes that you’re right,” Azriel replied, smiling weakly before letting out another deep sigh. Silence settled over them both though this time it did not hold the same odd tension that accompanied their dinner the previous night. It seemed normality had restored itself once more, for which Idrial was grateful.</p><p>“Also, I wanted to apologise for last night,” Azriel said, breaking the silence with his deep voice.</p><p>“Apologise? What for?”</p><p>“I was frustrated at Feyre and Rhys for—well I’m sure Cass told you why. And it wasn’t fair for me to take it out on the two of you when you came in laughing together.”</p><p>“Oh hush, Azriel. You were in a bad mood, that’s all. It happens to the best of us.” Azriel didn’t reply, only nodding with a clipped smile, clearly not accepting Idrial’s dismissal of his previously sour mood. Inside his own mind, he was cursing himself for his lack of honestly. Sure, his mood had been brought on initially by Feyre and Rhys’ decision to stop him surveying Briallyn and her lands, but when he’d seen Cassian and Idrial fighting together like, teasing one another…He knew the two were merely friends, nothing more and nothing less but something in him hated seeing the two looking so comfortable together. He didn’t exactly want to address what that something was, but he also didn’t want to ignore it entirely. That being said, he was obstinate in ignoring the fact that the feeling it stirred within him wasn’t entirely unlike the feeling that transpired whenever he saw Lucien with Elain. Azriel remained in his seat, watching the flames dance in the fireplace as he listened to Idrial flicking between pages, the scrawl of ink on paper sounding every few moments as she noted down something of interest. The sound calmed the tangle of thoughts in his mind as the pair sat in silence in the comfort of the private library.</p><p>Cassian and Nesta had returned later on, Cassian quickly leaving again to report to Rhys regarding their meeting with Eris. Nesta had had little to say on the matter outside of her intense disliking for the male and the brief encounter with Tamlin who, as Nesta had mentioned, was in his beast form. Even when Cassian had come back to the House, he didn’t seem overly pleased about his role of communicating with Eris and hadn’t shared much more than Nesta had when Idrial asked how it went. Even Azriel hadn’t managed to pry anything else from him, the tired male retiring to his room for some much-needed rest, leaving Azriel and Idrial to contemplate and fill in the gaps of missing information. Neither dared mention the weapons while Nesta was in the House. Even if their hushed voices couldn’t be heard from her corner of the House, neither wanted to be to blame if she found out before an official decision could be made. Said official decision was to be decided and revealed the following day at another Inner Court dinner, one that Nesta would mostly likely not be attending—or perhaps not invited to. Idrial hoped she might catch a glance at one of the swords Nesta had Made, if only to see for herself such a spectacle of power and magic. She already had plans to delve into her old notes and research for details on magic weapons, suspecting she may have come across something of use when looking into the Cauldron over a year prior.</p><p>Sure enough, dinner at the river house had revealed Feyre’s decision to tell Nesta of the magic weapons and the task to do so had been left to Cassian despite Feyre’s wishes to tell her sister. Rhys had kept them away and out of sight thanks to Amren intervening and deeming them too dangerous and unpredictable for the likes of certain individuals in the room. She hadn’t bothered to hide the pointed glances at Rhys and Cassian when Idrial had asked after the swords. Though, much to Idrial’s glee, Amren agreed to let Idrial view them after dinner, mentioning that she trusted her not to touch or unsheathe them as she had apparently caught the Illyrian brothers doing the day before. When Idrial failed to conceal her laughter upon looking at Cassian, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion and kicked at her shin, deeming it her fault when she complained.</p><p>Conversation soon drifted to the topic of the Valkyries and the training Nesta had introduced alongside Emerie and Gwyn.</p><p>“We never heard of them in the human lands,” Elain mused. She’d listened just as intently as Feyre had when Cassian had explained who the Valkyries were, complete awe dusting her delicate features.</p><p>“Some were as lovely as you, Elain, but once they set foot into the arena of battle, they because as bloodthirsty as Amren.” Rhys sent Amren an overly sweet smile as she scowled, rolling her eyes before offering her own approval of the war-females. “I liked those females. Never let a male boss them around—thought I could have done without their foolish king. He is as much to blame for their deaths as the Illyrians who walked away during that battle.”</p><p>“I can’t argue with that,” Cassian spoke up, taking a long sip of his wine. Nesta had told Idrial more of the history of the Valkyries, explaining just how such an esteemed and powerful army had fallen all in the space of one battle. The pass where they had met their demise apparently still lay barren, the earth unwilling to heal from the devastating scar their deaths had torn upon it.</p><p>“You know, I always thought Nesta was born on the wrong side of the wall,” Elain’s soft voice admitted. “She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two.” She nodded toward Cassian and Azriel, quickly looking away from the latter as a light dusting of rosy pink formed on her freckled cheeks. Idrial tried not to notice the gentle smile he gave her or the way his gaze lingered a little longer than he should have let it.</p><p>“Nesta is a wolf who has been locked in a cage her whole life,” spoke Feyre from her seat beside Rhysand, nursing a glass of water thanks to her pregnancy preventing her from indulging in the same sweet wine the others enjoyed.</p><p>“None of you have seen her on the dancefloor. That is when Nesta truly lets the wolf roam free. When there’s music.” The sparkle in Elain’s eyes spoke volumes to the truth behind her words. Idrial had never heard Nesta speak of a love for music or dancing, but she supposed it didn’t seem too out-of-character given their wealthy upbringing. Ornate balls and dances were no doubt a customary routine for them before their life of poverty and struggle. Elain continued to describe Nesta’s dancing, recounting the last dance they went to when Nesta had been fourteen, wielding her dance like a weapon to defend her sister and seduce a duke she had no interest in, purely to spite a girl who’d despised Elain for no apparent reason.</p><p>“I’d forgotten about that, and about her dancing,” Feyre commented as she leaned back in her chair, a hand absentmindedly resting on the slight swell of her stomach.</p><p>“Nesta never spoke of it afterward. I just observed,” came Elain’s reply.</p><p>“She’s never once mentioned it so me. And yet, somehow, it makes complete sense,” Idrial chimed in, a contemplative look on her face.</p><p>Amren then asked, “So your mother twisted Nesta’s creative joys into a social climber’s arsenal?” <em>Straight to the point as always, Amren.</em></p><p>“Our mother was not what one would call a pleasant person. Nesta has made her own choices, but our mother laid the groundwork.” The disdain in Feyre’s voice revealed a plethora of unsaid words regarding her feelings toward her mother.</p><p>Elain nodded, bringing her hands into her lap. “So I’m pleased to hear of this Valkyrie business. I’m happy that Nesta has found an interest in something again. And might channel of…<em>that</em> into it.” <em>That</em> being her fierce, complicated feelings that shone in all shades of anger and rage, passion and loyalty. While Idrial was glad to hear of Elain’s approval, she wished Nesta had been there to hear it herself. To know that her sister did not hate her or hold any bad feelings toward her after their last encounter. She made a mental note to talk to Nesta later, and mention that Elain had been awestruck by the Valkyries. Perhaps it’d give Nesta another little kick to continue with the rigorous training and not relent to the exhaustion it brought each morning, if only so she could show Elain her newfound strength.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Secrets Revealed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Twelve is here! And after this chapter we'll get some more one-on-on Azriel and Idrial interactions that I'm excited to get into! But there's still a long way to go before things get real interesting between them hehe. Also I don't know how I feel about the title of this chapter but I'm not creative enough to think of a better one lol</p><p>Oh, and thank you so much for 2k hits! It still feels a little unreal but I'm so grateful to anyone who reads this and keeps up to date with the new chapters! I appreciate you all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following morning, Idrial was sat in the spacious living room in a comfortable sweater and leggings with a book in hand as she enjoyed the calm quiet that early daytime hours brought. As usual, the training session was going ahead so Idrial had the House to herself. Not that she particularly minded having company, of course, but the silence allowed for the perfect reading conditions. Last night after returning home from dinner at the river house, Idrial had found Nesta sitting by the embers of the fire, the flames extinguished and only a slight glow of heat emanating from the fireplace. The pair had sat and talked for an hour or so before retiring to their rooms, Nesta appearing indifferent about the fact that she had not been invited to the river house along with the others. Idrial hadn’t wanted to rub salt in the wound and make Nesta feel left out, despite Nesta’s comment that she didn’t care whether Rhys and Feyre invited her to their dinner parties. Idrial had noticed, however, the ever so slight shift in Nesta’s expression after she mentioned Elain. It was so fast and so subtle that if Idrial had blinked, she would’ve missed it altogether. Still, she’d gone back to her room feeling content that perhaps she’d lifted Nesta’s mood in some way. She had yet to see the female this morning, her early morning rise still a tad too early for Idrial’s own sleeping habits.</p><p>As if on cue, Nesta stormed into the entrance of the House, icy rage accompanying her, not casting a glance in Idrial’s direction as her frame disappeared past the doorway and down the hall; her movements were full of anger and frustration but Idrial couldn’t for the life of her understand why. She moved to stand from her seat when Cassian burst in too, his face exasperated as he called Nesta’s name. Before she could ask him what had happened, he too had disappeared into the hallway. Idrial merely blinked in the direction they had both gone, unsure of what to do. This could easily be something as simple as Cassian talking out of line and angering Nesta, but given the frost in her steps Idrial suspected it might go deeper than that. Unfortunately for her, Azriel had left the House before training and so hadn’t been there to witness whatever it was that had transpired between Nesta and Cassian. She contemplated going out to the pit to see if Emerie or Gwyn were still there and knew anything but she decided against it. She’d find out sooner or later and more trouble would come from her prying too far into their business.</p><p>It wasn’t long before Cassian strode into the living room, all but collapsing beside Idrial, burying his face in his hands. He sighed heavily, running his hands to push back his hair as he let out a groan of despondency.</p><p>“Everything okay? Nesta came through looking less than pleased,” Idrial spoke, keeping her tone light and cheerful to try and alleviate the tension she felt pulsing from him.</p><p>“She found out about the magic weapons. And that we all knew and hadn’t told her. And that Rhys and Amren voted to not tell her.” <em>Oh. Well that would explain it. </em></p><p>“Oh. I see.”</p><p>“And she won’t let me in to explain. I mean, I didn’t exactly handle things as best as I could but she needs to know we trust her. That the vote was with good intention,” Cassian said, pure exasperation in his voice.</p><p>“She’ll come around. Just give her some space and a little time and she’ll listen to you. I’m sure she’s just hurt that Amren and Rhys didn’t vote in her favour and that we waited to tell her. It’ll be okay.”</p><p>“I know it will. I just don’t know how to explain it all to her without saying the wrong thing or making it sound worse than it is.” Idrial shifted closer to Cassian, a hand moving to his shoulder in a comforting gesture.</p><p>“Once she’s calmed down and processed it all, she’ll listen to you, even if the words didn’t come out exactly right the first time.”</p><p>Cassian looked up at Idrial, an appreciative smile on his face though the concern still lingered beneath the surface. “I think I’ll go to my room. If I back off she might come talk to you about it. She always listens to you.”</p><p>Idrial chuckled under her breath. “I’m not so sure about that, but I appreciate it anyway. I imagine she’s just as annoyed at me right now as she is at you. I didn’t tell her either.”</p><p>“No,” Cassian replied, shaking his head. “She doesn’t have it in her to get mad at you.” He then stood and forced a smile as he left for his bedchambers, leaving Idrial on her own once more. She remained in her spot on the sofa, taking up her book once more though found herself unable to focus on the words. Her eyes repeated the same sentence at least four times before she gave up and placed it on the table before her. At least her curiosity had been satiated, even if it was at the expense of knowing just how furious Nesta was. Despite Cassian’s assurance that Nesta wasn’t mad at her, Idrial couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not having said anything sooner. She knew if she had, the consequences would have probably been far worse, but she hated knowing just how angry Nesta likely was at that present moment. It was a double-edged sword—if she’d been honest Rhys would have been furious with her and because she hadn’t been honest, Nesta was now mad. Even if she had told her, Nesta would have no doubt gotten angry then too the only difference being that it wouldn’t have been directed at Idrial so perhaps the current situation was better; only one Fae was teeming with rage rather than multiple.</p><p>The silence that consumed the House now was deafening. It held none of the calm serenity that had been floating in the air just thirty minutes prior. Now, it was pure tension so thick you could almost see it clinging to every surface. Idrial stared blankly at the floor, not taking any notice to her surroundings and missing the quick flash that was Nesta walking past the open doorway to the living room and toward the front entrance of the House. She didn’t really know what to do, contemplating going to Nesta’s room to check that she was okay but ultimately deciding against it to give her the space she’d suggested Cassian give her, completely unaware that even if she had gone to see Nesta she’d have only been met by an empty room.</p><p>Cassian had come out of his room not long later, announcing that he was leaving for a bit with no comment as to where he planned to go or how long he’d be out for. Idrial assumed he’d end up at the river house to make Rhys aware of the situation before returning to talk things over with Nesta. Taking a few deep breaths to settle the rush of her thoughts, Idrial picked up the book once more and found herself able to concentrate once more, no longer too distracted to read more than a line or two. At least, she would have been able to had the arrival of Azriel not pulled her away once more. He stood in the doorway, his movements louder than usual so as not to startle her and offered a smile before greeting her.</p><p>“Cassian not around—” He paused mid-sentence, body stilling as though he was now an unmoving statue. Idrial looked up, her brows furrowed when she noticed the look of pure shock that had weaved into his features. She placed down her book again, moving to the edge of the sofa as her eyes remained on him.</p><p>“Azriel? What’s wrong?” She asked, trying not to immediately assume the worst.</p><p>“Nesta’s told Feyre about the baby.” <em>Okay, so maybe she had been right to assume the worst.</em></p><p>“Shit. But she—I thought she was still in her room? I didn’t see her go past or leave,” Idrial spoke frantically, standing up and taking a few steps toward Azriel.</p><p>“Well she made her way down into Velaris somehow. The stairs, probably. And paid Amren a visit. Varian went and alerted Feyre and she…told her. Rhys is <em>fuming</em>. That might be putting it lightly, in all honesty.”</p><p>Idrial wasn’t sure how Azriel knew all this, whether it was a mental warning from Rhysand or his shadows whispering to him, but all she knew was that it couldn’t be much worse. The only thing that <em>could</em> make it worse would be Briallyn deciding to make further use of the Trove’s Crown but Idrial wasn’t going to tempt fate by dwelling on it too much.</p><p>“Rhys wants her out of the city. Sounds like he’s one move away from murdering her,” Azriel continued. Idrial stayed quiet, unsure how to respond as her nervously bit her lip. She watched Azriel move to sort out a pack of food and other survival items, no doubt for Cassian and Nesta. Given Rhys’ supposed murderous state, she wouldn’t be surprised to not see either of them for at least a few days. As Idrial moved to help Azriel, she kept thinking of Nesta. She knew that Nesta had been angry, but just how mad had she been to storm upon Amren and end up telling Feyre about the baby and the risk she faced? And how must Feyre be feeling now? Knowing that the slight risk she had been told of was actually far greater than she’d been led to believe can’t have been easy to find out—and from her elder sister and not her mate, either. It was all one colossal mess that maybe could have been avoided, but also could have just been some inevitable fated outcome that they managed to delay until now.</p><p>Once the pair had finished preparing the pack for Cassian and Nesta, Azriel left the House to wait atop the roof to pass it along while Idrial remained in the dining room, one hand resting on the back of a chair. The House was no doubt going to feel a lot emptier and quieter without Cassian and Nesta around. She had barely even considered the fact that she and Azriel were going to be alone together for the foreseeable future. Azriel returned moments later, a slight chill filtering in the room from the wind but Idrial paid little attention to the breeze brushing against her arms.</p><p>“I imagine they’ll be gone for no more than a week or so. Feyre—” Azriel paused when he realised Idrial wasn’t listening. Either that, or she simply hadn’t noticed that he was talking to her. “Hey, Idrial.” He waved a hand in front of her face, the other moving to rest on her shoulder, pulling her attention back to him finally. “It’ll be okay. Feyre mind-spoke to me and she’s doing fine. A little shaken up, of course but ultimately she cares more about Nesta right now. She’s not all too happy with us for not telling her, but everything will be okay.” As he spoke, Azriel pulled Idrial into his arms, acting completely on instinct. He let his hand gently rub her back, relaxing when he felt her lean into his embrace.</p><p>“I know it’ll all work out fine. It’s just…I feel awful for not telling Nesta. Or Feyre for that matter. They both deserved to find out sooner than they did. And in better circumstances.” “Neither decision was made by you therefore you shouldn’t worry or waste time feeling guilty. You followed orders. If you hadn’t then you’d likely be the one having to hide from Rhys’ wrath for a few days.” Azriel joked, finding comfort in the quiet laugh Idrial released. “You know, with Cass gone I’m in need of a teacher for the morning sessions. Any chance you can bear to get up a little earlier to help out?”</p><p>Idrial leaned back, sliding out of Azriel’s embrace and praying he didn’t notice the dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Now I’m starting to suspect you orchestrated all of this as part of some elaborate plan to make me get up at ungodly hours in the morning to train and exercise.”</p><p>Azriel tipped back his head as he laughed. “I’d never do such a thing.”</p><p>Idrial wasn’t sure she believed him. “Regardless of your secret intentions, I think I might take you up on that offer. Not for the early mornings, mind you, but for the company. I’ll need to talk to the priestesses else I might go mad only having you for company.”</p><p>Azriel scoffed, playfully pushing at her shoulder. Idrial couldn’t help but take a couple steps back. Even when attempting to be gentle, Azriel was still unbelievably strong. Perhaps having the House to themselves for a few days might be rather fun, after all. Even if it meant she would have to get up earlier.</p><p>Idrial took back all thoughts that helping Azriel train the priestesses as fun when she was awoken by him barging into her room and acting as a living alarm. She grumbled in her spot, head nestled comfortably into the pillows and eyes still closed. The room wasn’t entirely light yet, the sky sitting perfectly in the transition state of dawn when the sun was beginning to rise and painting the sky in a beautiful myriad of oranges and pinks, the darkness of the light still lingering in the spots yet to be graced by the sun’s rising rays.</p><p>“Come on, you made a promise yesterday. Don’t fail me now,” Azriel said, arms folded as he looked over her sleep-ridden figure beneath the sheets.</p><p>“Don’t want to,” Idrial replied. Her voice wasn’t its usual tone, the tiredness in her body taking over every facet of her words. Azriel rolled his eyes. <em>Disappointed, but not surprised.</em> He’d suspected the moment she agreed that getting her to leave her bed would prove almost as much of a challenge as Cassian had getting Nesta to start training. He waited for any sign of movement but Idrial remained burrowed comfortably beneath the covers. If he stood there much longer, she’d fall asleep again and he would have the joy of trying to wake her once more. Opting to not let that happen, Azriel strode up beside the bed and pulled on the sheets, leaving Idrial exposed to the crisp morning air.</p><p>“Hey! Give it back,” she complained, a hand blindly grabbing for the covers he had stolen from her sleepy frame though she was unsuccessful in her attempt. “And go away. I’ll be up in a minute.”</p><p>“I’m not leaving until I see you get up.”</p><p>“Don’t you trust me? I’m offended.”</p><p>“No I don’t trust you right now.” Azriel didn’t give in to her complaints, no matter how peaceful she had looked when he came in. Idrial finally conceded and huffed out a less-than-pleased “fine” as she accepted her fate. Satisfied with the result, Azriel tossed the covers back onto the bed and made to leave the room but not before issuing a warning that he would return in five minutes to make sure she hadn’t gotten back into bed, threatening a cold bucket of water should she decide to rest for a few more minutes. Idrial, despite her sleepy state, knew better than to test whether his threats held any substance and quickly got herself ready. Once she got moving around and was out in the fresh air, her body would catch up and let her train as she needed to but until then, every step that wasn’t toward her bed felt like a mile long hike. Still, if it meant she would be guaranteed to fall asleep quickly later that night, this new schedule might not be so terrible after all.</p><p>The early morning start had been made entirely worth it all thanks to the feeling of smugness Idrial felt when Azriel knocked on her door five minutes later, fully expecting her to have crawled back into bed only to find she was almost fully dressed and ready for the training session. The breakfast the House had prepared had been another factor that made Idrial almost grateful for Cassian and Nesta’s absence. It seemed the House had taken pity on her and offered a little extra than usual; she’d never complain about extra offerings of food even if it were at least an hour earlier than she usually ate breakfast.</p><p>By the time they had finished eating and made their way out to the training pit, the priestesses and Emerie had already gathered and started their warmups according to the usual plan. Azriel greeted them all, explaining Idrial’s presence and the lack of Cassian and Nesta, giving a vague explanation as to why they weren’t there, leaving out any and all details about the true reason they were absent. Idrial did her stretches while he addressed them, grateful for the layers she’d worn now she was out in the cold morning air.</p><p>“We’ll be getting them started on sword training for the next few days. Nothing big, mostly just grip and simple exercises to get used to the weight before Cassian’s back. I trust you haven’t forgotten what I taught you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow as he uttered his final sentence, smirking when she tried to swat at him and missed as he sidestepped away.</p><p>“You’re the one that asked me to help you. I could very easily turn around and get back into my bed again,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes at the chuckling Illyrian.</p><p>“And leave me to teach alone? You’d never.”</p><p>“Try me.” Idrial knew he could see right through her empty threats yet still played along. Taking in a deep breath, she looked toward the rack of training swords, none of them particularly sharp or dangerous enough to cause more than a minor scratch or two should someone get hit or nicked by a blade. Though the priestesses likely wouldn’t be anywhere near close to sparring practice for at least a couple weeks. Sword training was surprisingly complex, as Idrial had found out when she’d first received her own training lessons before the fight with Hybern. It had felt like an eternity that she’d spent perfecting her grip and her stance, making sure she was perfectly balanced and in the correct position to attack and defend. And learning how to manoeuvre had been another beast entirely. Still, it was a skill that once you learnt it, there was no forgetting it—mainly because so much time was spent on learning the basics that it became as natural as breathing or walking. In that moment, Idrial was grateful for the extensive lessons as she followed Azriel’s lead and the pair began to demonstrate basic sword grip and handling to the group of avid females, ready to learn the next step to becoming fierce warriors.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Alone in the House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was so excited to write this chapter! It's a nice break from all the essay writing I'm buried in at the moment and I adore the Azriel and Idrial moments in this one (it's basically full of them hehe) I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next chapter! I'm also thinking of going back and editing some of the earlier chapters since it's been a while since I last touched them, but if I don't have the time I'll just focus on getting the next chapter written for you all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With Cassian and Nesta gone, the House felt oddly quiet and empty. Even if it were usually quiet with Nesta working in the library with the priestesses or Cassian out at Windhaven, checking on the Illyrian war camps, it was still a strange experience for Idrial. Another two days had passed since Nesta’s outburst and subsequent backlash from Rhysand and Idrial hadn’t found herself able to focus on the work she had before her. She’d attempted to sit in the private library, fire crackling for warmth and background noise, and yet her attempts were without success. The only thing she <em>had</em> been able to concentrate on were the morning lessons she helped Azriel give to the priestesses. While her own skills were vastly inferior to the extensive trained Illyrian soldier, she still felt confident in imparting some of her own wisdom and experiences to the priestesses. They’d all appeared to be learning and adapting fairly quickly too, both to being outside of the library and to encountering the new exercises and techniques that came with learning to fight and defend themselves. It seemed to bring a new sense of life and vigour to the priestesses that Idrial hadn’t seen before in any of her many visits to the library, and it sent a warm sensation through her body at the knowledge that this was Nesta’s doing. She had seen something of herself in those priestesses, or found a way to channel everything she’d experienced and extended that feeling to those women, hoping that they, too, might feel the same revitalising sensation. Even with Nesta gone, the training sessions had gone well and left Idrial feeling as though she might have to make this a more frequent occurrence, even after Cassian and Nesta returned.</p>
<p>Though thanks to Feyre and Rhysand’s decision to prevent Azriel from embarking on any journeys close to the human realm and, more specifically, Briallyn, he was spending a lot more time in the House of Wind. He still sometimes left for a few hours to meet with Rhys or do whatever spymaster work he’d been given, but generally Azriel was around a lot more. Something Idrial had found most difficult was eating alone with him. Usually there would be at least three of them at the table eating, Nesta being the one typically missing in favour of eating alone in the private library after work. But with the company of the others gone, most of Idrial’s meals were eaten with only Azriel present—the other select few she ate entirely alone. It wasn’t that being alone with Azriel was awkward necessarily, she just found it to be an all-too intimate experience than she was accustomed to. She didn’t entirely hate it though, and found she enjoyed their private conversations. Azriel often spoke more freely when they were alone, less concerned with upholding his usual stoic image. It was a softer side of Azriel that she’d seen when he was tending her wounds from the fight with Eris’ soldiers. It was a side to him that she liked just as much as his quiet, mysterious image as Rhysand’s trusted spymaster.</p>
<p>Something she hadn’t expected, though, was that Azriel had often joined her in the evenings when she decided to set aside the work she’d barely concentrated on in favour of unwinding by the fireplace with a novel or a warm beverage. The previous night she had closed a book with a heavy sigh, resting her face in her hands with combined frustration and exhaustion when Azriel’s voice had sounded at the door, his footsteps and movements completely silent—or perhaps he’d made enough noise to be heard but her thoughts had been too loud she’d missed them.</p>
<p>“Everything okay? Can I join you?” His voice had been tinted with concern, worried that perhaps she was worrying excessively about Nesta or Cassian, or maybe about Briallyn’s movements.</p>
<p>Idrial looked up at him, trying to hide her surprise at his apparently sudden appearance. “Oh, yes I’m fine. Just tired, is all. But please, feel free.” She tried to smile but her efforts were clearly not convincing enough for the Shadowsinger nor the shadows that danced around him.</p>
<p>Azriel chuckled lightly as he stepped into the room, the wooden door shutting behind him. “You should take a break. Every time I find you, you’re sitting there working.”</p>
<p>“That’s because some of us aren’t suited for going out and about, spying and things.”</p>
<p>“You could do it if you wanted. I wouldn’t stop you and neither would Rhys if that’s what you wanted to do. Just look at the venture out to the Middle. You held your own just as well as Cassian or I and that’s without the regular training,” Azriel said as he took a seat by the fire, not looking at Idrial as he spoke. Her eyes followed his frame, widened slightly as she took in everything he said. It was true that there wasn’t anything really stopping her from doing more practical work, but she just hadn’t really gravitated it in the same way she had towards her researching and more studious work that Rhysand had asked of her. She supposed it harkened back to her incredibly sheltered upbringing she’d had in the Winter Court before Mor had found her and offered a life of freedom in Velaris. Something about being confined indoors for so long had left a mark that made her less to offer aid in the more physical tasks required of the Night Court’s Inner Circle.</p>
<p>Still, something about Azriel’s reassurance settled in her chest. Despite the complications that had arisen during their visit to the Middle, Idrial had enjoyed the change of structure it brought to her routine. Something about having the freedom of movement even in the face of danger was exhilarating; she understood why Cassian, Azriel, and Mor enjoyed their work so much. But could she offer as much as they could in future endeavours? She supposed there was only one way to know, and that was to embark on more outside journeys and tasks.</p>
<p>“Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t want to hold anyone back or be an additional concern to worry about in case of an attack like the one in the Middle,” she voiced, immediately regretting her choice of words when Azriel’s head snapped in her direction. She hadn’t meant exactly what she’d said, not knowing how to best word how she felt about the idea. It wasn’t that she believed herself to be a burden, or a concern, but that she didn’t feel as though as was well trained enough in physical combat and fighting to be an equal stood beside the likes of Azriel. She didn’t want him to be concerned with saving her should the situation called for it—she wanted to be responsible for herself and feel as though she could hold her own just as well as he could and considering it had been over a year since she’d had consistent training sessions, she wasn’t entirely confident that she could. That wasn’t to say she felt weak or unable to defend herself, but more that she wasn’t certain she had the physical endurance that was often necessary on a lot of Azriel’s excursions outside of Velaris. “Wait, that’s not exactly what I meant—” She began to add, though was met with Azriel holding up a hand to stop her.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter what you think you meant. You still said it, which means you still think that way even to some small degree.” He rose from his seat, walking over to her and bending down in front of her, eyes fixed on hers as he continued. “You would never and could never hold anyone back, Idrial. You’re not a burden, or concern for any of us. Sure, we might have been concerned about you going to the Middle and for that I apologise. I know my own worrying is probably part of why you feel this way and that’s on me. But I worry for you in the same way I do for the others. I worry for Cassian out Mother knows where with Nesta. I worry for Feyre and her baby. I worry for Mor out on her own in Vallahan. Every one of them is just as capable as you in every way. You may have different strengths or weaknesses but that doesn’t make you any less valuable or adept at doing the work we do and more.” Azriel’s hands had now grasped Idrial’s his gaze heavy and piercing though Idrial couldn’t look away. She couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away from his hazel eyes, or remove her hands from his. She couldn’t even say anything, entirely unable to formulate coherent sentences.</p>
<p>“Look,” Azriel sighed. “You don’t have to say anything, and I’m definitely not letting you fight me because I’m right and you know it.” Idrial laughed at that. “Just, think about it. Don’t restrict yourself for the sake of others. You deserve to be happy and do whatever it is that will bring you that happiness.”</p>
<p><em>Oh, if only you knew, Azriel.</em> She thought to herself. Azriel remained kneeling in front of her for a moment, his hands still on hers, before getting up and moving a hand to her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Come on, you spend far too much time working and not enough time relaxing.” Idrial didn’t have the heart to tell him she hadn’t done either the past few days. His hand slid down her arm to grasp her hand again, the touch gentle and delicate despite the disparity in size between his hand and her own. Azriel gently pulled her up from her seat, though Idrial wasn’t exactly reluctant to follow him. He led her to the armchair closest to the fire and gestured for her to take a seat while he summoned two mugs of tea from the House, offering one to her that she gratefully accepted. On the little table beside Idrial, an empty plate appeared. Idrial furrowed her eyebrows and looked up to Azriel who was smiling innocently.</p>
<p>“You asked the House for a plate?” She questioned, tentatively taking a sip of her drink. It was perfectly sweetened to her liking.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t finished yet! So impatient,” he teased, a small box appearing from his shadows. Idrial didn’t know exactly how Azriel’s shadows worked or how he managed to conceal things within them, himself included, but the powers were intriguing nonetheless. She’d never really asked about the shadows before in favour of not overstepping any boundaries, but tonight she felt like any boundaries that were established between them had begun to crumble.</p>
<p>“How do your shadows work, exactly? I’ve always wondered but never really asked.”</p>
<p>Azriel glanced at her, eyebrows slightly raised. “And there was me thinking you were about to ask what’s in the box. There’s not really a short answer to that, I’m afraid.”</p>
<p>“I’d like to know what you’ve got hidden in the box too. Especially if it’s to do with that plate you summoned. But I don’t mind if it’s a long or short answer. Just, whatever you feel comfortable sharing, I guess.”</p>
<p>Azriel sighed, placing the box on the small, round table between them and leaving it unopened as he leaned back in his seat. “It’s hard to explain, really. The shadows feel like any type of magic would I suppose, but there’s always just…more. They can feel and hear things and sort of…whisper them to me. But it’s closer to Rhys’ daemati where I don’t really hear them but more sense what they’re saying.”</p>
<p>“And you can materialise things out of them,” Idrial commented, nodding pointedly at the box.</p>
<p>Azriel laughed softly, “Not quite. More that I can hide something in them the way I can hide myself or someone else.”</p>
<p>“Right. And if, hypothetically, that something is a box that is now sitting on that table, what would be in said box?” Idrial smiled innocently as he laughed, louder this time.</p>
<p>“So impatient tonight, aren’t we?” His voice had a teasing lilt about it and Idrial could only pray his shadows didn’t pick up on the flutter she felt in her stomach or the slight shift in her hands that were clutched to the mug. Remaining quiet for a moment, Azriel just observed Idrial who tried not to let her cheeks warm too much under his gaze.</p>
<p>“I guess I’ll have to show you, then,” he said, faking annoyance as he reached to lift the lid of the box, revealing four pastries inside. It took barely a single glance for Idrial to recognise them as the work of Flora and Selene’s shop. She looked between the pastries and Azriel with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“Wait—How did you—What?”</p>
<p>Azriel smiled. “I have my ways.” His shadows seemed to dance in amusement as though they also knew exactly the ‘ways’ he was referring to. In fact, in that moment, it occurred to Idrial that his dancing shadows were exactly how he knew she adored Flora and Selene’s craft. And she didn’t miss the irony of her asking about his shadows shortly beforehand.</p>
<p>“You scare me sometimes,” she replied with no sense of seriousness in her tone.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t be the first to say that. Now don’t let my efforts go to waste.”</p>
<p>“Only if you have one too.” Before Azriel could attempt to decline, Idrial had summoned another plate from the House to land directly in his lap as she reached for the box to take out a pastry for herself and one for Azriel. “You’re not allowed to say no.”</p>
<p>“And if I try to do so?” Azriel raised an eyebrow, challenging her and taunting her with a smirk.</p>
<p>“Much like yourself, I also have my ways,” she answered, taking a bite and holding eye contact. She wasn’t going to let herself back down from this. Luckily for Idrial, Azriel gave in first and accepted that he didn’t have a say in the matter. He took his own first bite, eyes closing as he savoured the sweet taste.</p>
<p>“I think I understand exactly why you love it there so much,” he spoke, eyes remaining closed while he spoke.</p>
<p>“If there’s anything to be learnt from me, it’s that I have impeccable taste in all aspects of life.” Idrial took another bite of the pastry and relished in the sheer comfort she felt within herself. It had been a while since her mind hadn’t been at least partially distracted with thoughts of work, or the relations with other Courts, or outside forces like Briallyn so it felt nice to be able to completely shut off that side of her mind and just enjoying existing in that moment. The faelights had dimmed, giving the look an even cosier feel as she sat opposite Azriel, feeling entirely comfortable and at peace in his presence. He also appeared to feel just as peaceful as she did—a sight she didn’t see all that often.</p>
<p>Azriel’s own thoughts mirrored those of Idrial. He was always concerned with one thing or another, especially given his newly established rule to not travel anywhere near Briallyn or the human lands, even under the guise of his shadows. But now he was sat there with only Idrial in the near vicinity acting as his only company until Cassian and Nesta’s inevitable return. He found a part of him wishing to pause time so that he could relish in this feeling for longer. Bathe in the sheer serenity and calm energy that washed over him in the same manner as a gentle wave on the shore of a beach. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in, well, months. Or perhaps even in his lifetime. But the dimming of the faelights and the oncoming tiredness that slowly crept up on him reminded him that time was indeed passing and that they didn’t have an eternity to remain sitting in this private library with only each other as company.</p>
<p>When he did take himself off to sleep, Idrial having left just before he did, Azriel slept soundly until the morning light awoken him bright and early as usual. He’d waited a moment before leaving the library, wanting a minute to himself to think before he went to bed, knowing he’d collapse and fall asleep instantly without a chance to think on the rest of their conversation. Idrial hadn’t seemed to mind or question why he lingered that little bit longer, far too tired herself to really register that he had stayed behind for a moment. Azriel hadn’t come to any wild conclusions or thought of anything too serious in the time he’d spent in the armchair, but had simply just let his mind wander through all manner of things he and Idrial had said—and all the things they hadn’t.</p>
<p>Now, as he got himself ready for the morning as always, his mind felt clearer and his body was refreshed in a way it hadn’t been in a while. Something about the previous night had invigorated him. He didn’t dwell on it, knowing that overthinking would just lead to more confusion and would only tangle all the emotions locked away within him even further. Azriel wanted to just be. As he made his way down the hallway, intending to knock on Idrial’s door and check she’d woken up too, he was pleasantly surprised by her appearance just as he reached the door and began to raise a fist to knock.</p>
<p>“Bit early for the combat, don’t you think? I’m barely functioning right now,” Idrial commented, laughing at the surprise in his expression.</p>
<p>“I’m more amazed that you’re not only awake, but you’re actually moving and not trying to burrow in your bed like a cat or something.”</p>
<p>“You should be proud. I’m only doing it for you,” she replied, sticking out her tongue playfully and sliding past his towering frame, hand grazing against his arm as she did so before leaving him stood outside her door as she headed for the dining room. Azriel watched her leave, frozen in place. He didn’t know exactly what had happened and tried not to let his mind linger on the feel of her hand on his arm. It took a lot of self-restraint to ignore the loss of her touch that still tingled on his skin. The sound of Idrial calling him from down the hallway brought Azriel out of his thoughts, those inner conflicts pushing back to the recesses of his mind as he followed after her, leaving that mess for another day, another time when he was ready to address what stirred in the depth of his body and soul—ready to accept that his future might not have been as clear cut as he once believed.</p>
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